


A Star in Shadow

by 0o_Demigod



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Alpha Tyrande, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Asexual Character, Attempted Kidnapping, Delta (special omega) Thalyssra, F/F, F/M, I got a couple pairings planned out, Malfurion is a himbo ace, Mating Bond, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mating Rituals, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Political Alliances, Political Marriage, Rutting, Set between 8.1 and 8.2, Shameless Smut, Thalyssra's trying her best, Thalyssra/Malfurion friendship cause he's a good noodle, Tyrande is scary and possessive, Unsafe Sex, Weird Plot Shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:40:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 31,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27366685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0o_Demigod/pseuds/0o_Demigod
Summary: Of all the things Thalyssra expected to happen during her heat, Horde intelligence overlooking signs of the Alliance mounting an attack against Suramar was definitely not on the list.Now, left in a difficult situation with limited options, the First Arcanist is forced to play ball on Alliance terms to ensure that her people's safety and future is guaranteed.Although, Thalyssra's quite sure she would have preferred the Stockades over being mated to Tyrande Whisperwind.
Relationships: Jaina Proudmoore/Sylvanas Windrunner, Malfurion Stormrage/Tyrande Whisperwind, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added, Stellagosa/Valtrois (Warcraft), Thalyssra/Tyrande Whisperwind
Comments: 61
Kudos: 119





	1. Surrender

**Author's Note:**

> So I rewrote this a few times. Tried posting it once and didn't like how the relationships turned out.  
> BUT NOW I THINK I GOT IT!  
> Anyways, this is ABO stuff, so if you're not into that I suggest clicking the back button now, cause there's going to be a lot of that here.  
> Of course, I made sure to include plenty of plot, so if you're here for that I hope you'll be happy too.  
> I do not own World of Warcraft in any way, shape, or form.

There was chaos in the streets. Everywhere she looked, Shandris saw the tired, worn faces of civilians as the Kaldorei army marched into the city. 

Alliance champions collected weapons from the captured soldiers, herding the more dangerous ones away from the area until the official surrender was issued. 

King Wrynn watched from the side, the other attending faction leaders bundled around him as they issued orders to their forces, directing Champions to different parts of the city. 

Suramar had fallen.

The fight for the city had been as difficult as one might expect, given the effort it took to move troops to its location. 

But the actual city had been far too easy to invade. Resistance was minimal at best, since most of the Nightborne’s strongest players were currently spread out among the differing nations of the Horde. 

And the First Arcanist, who by all accounts should have been here, was nowhere to be found. 

Obviously, to cement their hold on the city, the Alliance would need to have Suramar’s leader in their possession. 

But unfortunately that tactic would be useless if they couldn’t actually _find_ her. 

Nearly every outcome predicted by S7 had the First Arcanist appearing during the fighting. They had gone through a number of tedious reports to ensure they would time their attack at the right moment, when the city’s leadership was spread thin and the head was left vulnerable. 

And yet, it seemed as if a slight miscalculation had been made. 

Shandris glanced over at her parents, noting their passive faces with some worry. 

Being back in Suramar must have been difficult. It had been thousands of years since the War of the Ancients, since the Sundering split the world. Her minn’da, who’s eyes were as dark as the black moon, had been back once during the Legion’s invasion to help end Elisande’s reign.

Her an’da looked almost pained. The entire city was entombed in marble and luxury. It was different from the forests that the kaldorei were so used to. 

“Have you heard anything of the First Arcanist’s location?” Anduin’s voice remained steady. It had taken the beta a lot of backbone to reign in the Night Warrior’s bloodlust during the fighting, and the young king was wary of showing weakness and giving the elder alpha a reason to question him. 

Shaw shook his head in response to the question, “Nothing. All reports said she was here. My spies reported she left Orgrimmar three days ago and portalled back.”

“What of the other leaders?” Jaina asked, “I doubt the First Arcanist is the only one of importance within the city.”

“Arcanist Valtrois was last reported to be with her mate, the blue dragon Stellagosa,” Shaw answered. “They are currently in Dalaran, and with news of Suramar’s siege spreading, it is unlikely she will return until an official surrender has been made.” 

“Their chief telemancer is currently in Zandalar,” Valeera materialized behind Genn, who barely managed to stifle his surprise as the spy sauntered around him. 

“That leaves the First Arcanist and her advisor, Ly’leth Lunastre,” Shaw nodded off towards the side, where the mentioned beta was being held by three champions. “Who we already have in custody.”

“Bring her here,” Tyrande demanded, turning to stare as the champions grabbed the advisor by her arms, dragging her over and depositing her before the Alliance leaders.

Ly’leth, with countless years of aristocratic dealings under her belt, hardly blinked at the faces glaring down at her.

“Your forces are defeated,” Anduin spoke clearly. “Your city has fallen. Suramar belongs to the Alliance now.”

“Congratulations, your majesty,” Ly’leth looked unconcerned. “You must be very proud of your army for taking a city filled with noncombatants.”

“Teldrassil was filled with noncombatants,” Malfurion’s voice held a quiet fury. “And yet you stood by while it was put to the flame.”

“Burning the tree was _not_ the plan!” Ly’leth snapped, the point obviously hitting a sore wound, “We were told you would evacuate the civilians by the time we invaded the tree- that the goal of taking it was so we could secure Kalimdor for the Horde. It was _supposed_ to be a vital bargaining chip.” She looked away angrily, “And then the Warchief decided to burn it.”

“Thousands of my people were lost,” The Night-Warrior’s rage swelled within the High-Priestess’s body. “You think what was ‘supposed to happen’ matters!?”

“Half of the population in Suramar had relatives living within Kaldorei borders,” Ly’leth replied, although her tone was defeated. “Or have you forgotten that our people are kin? _No one_ in Suramar desired the burning of Teldrassil, not when the blood spilled belonged to our families too.”

Malfurion’s eyes widened at the news, while Shandris and the other Kaldorei officials exchanged uneasy looks. Tyrande remained stonily silent, her tight grip on her weapon causing her fist to shake. 

Anduin licked his lips nervously, “Look, we have no reason to continue the fighting. Suramar is ours. Tell us where the First Arcanist is so we can issue the official surrender and end this.”

Ly’leth’s face went back to passive, “Thalyssra is… currently unavailable…”

“Her city has just been conquered,” Shandris raised a skeptical eyebrow. “I’m sure she can make time to appear.”

Ly’leth shook her head, opening her mouth to reply, “It’s not that si-”

“High King!” A champion broke into the moment, cutting off the nightborne advisor as he sprinted into the area, “We’ve found the First Arcanist!”

Immediately every head turned towards the voice, and panic visibly flared on the nightborne’s face.

“She’s at the healer’s ward,” the mage had to bend down, bracing their hands on their knees as they gasped for breath. “In the heat chambers!”

“The heat chambers?” Jaina looked skeptical, turning towards Shaw with confusion on her face, “I thought she was a beta?”

“Is she-” Anduin’s face felt hot, “Is she possibly _tending_ to an omega?”

“No, my king,” the champion shook their head. “She’s alone. I mean-” The mage tugged on their collar, embarrassment clear on their face, “You can _smell_ her. It’s- I mean- She’s _definitely_ in heat.”

“She does not have an omega’s scent,” Tyrande scowled, turning back towards Ly’leth. “What kind of trick are you trying to pull!?”

The advisor had gone pale, “It’s not a trick. I don’t know if you’re aware, but scent suppressants _are_ a thing.”

“So, she’s an omega,” Anduin stated. “Well, we can work with that. Hormone suppressants can partially suppress her heat long enough to clear her head, so we’ll just send other omegas or mated individuals in to speak with her after that.”

_“NO!”_ Ly’leth nearly screeched, “Do _not_ do that!”

Shandris furrowed her eyebrows, “But-”

“She’s _not_ a regular omega,” the advisor ground out. “Thalyssra is a _delta-variation_ omega _._ Which means _anyone_ can be affected by her scent!”

Tyrande scoffed, “Delta’s are _extinct._ The Sundering’s magic caused the bloodlines to go sterile.” 

“The shield cut us off from the rest of the world,” Ly’leth retorted. “Check the medical records if you don’t believe me- deltas may be rare, but they are alive and well in Suramar’s population, and Thalyssra is one of them.”

“ _If_ she’s telling the truth…” Jaina rubbed at her temple, “We’ll need stronger suppressants than what a normal omega could handle to ensure we take the proper precautions when meeting with her.” She looked towards the king, “Or we can wait until she’s out of heat.”

Malfurion cleared his throat and turned towards Ly’leth, “How long has she...?”

“It’s only been two days,” the beta glared at the assembled. “She’ll be like this for at least another week.”

“Suppressants it is then,” Anduin turned towards the champion. “Go back and have the healers administer whatever they need to make the First Arcanist of sound mind.” He frowned, “And make sure no one but them goes near her until then.”

“Yes High-King!” The mage saluted, summoning a mount before taking off in the direction they came. 

“In the meantime we should begin taking note of forces, champions, and other inventory captured. Census records of the city’s inhabitants would be a good pla-” Jaina’s voice trailed off, her eyes staring upwards. 

The other leaders all followed her line of sight, gasps of surprise exhaling from them at what was occurring. 

Far above them the moon loomed in a half-eclipse, a starch difference from the black moon that usually followed the Night-Warrior’s presence. 

Tyrande frowned sharply, her grip tight enough for her nails to break skin. 

“Deltas...” She spoke evenly, voice oddly devoid of her typical rage. “...are sacred to Elune. If any of you come across one, I would suggest treading _carefully_ with how you react. _”_

Each leader present nodded their head in understanding, although it did not escape their notice how Malfurion kept a careful eye on his wife’s sudden change in demeanor. 

Whatever the case, Shandris had a _feeling_ that the half-eclipse looming in the sky had more to it than just what her min’da explained.

* * *

Unfortunately for her, Thalyssra looked as if she was having a tough time.

Her hair stuck to the sides of her face, and her skin was coated in a thin coat of sweat. She wore loose clothes, designed to prevent the fabric from sticking to her sensitive, overheated skin, and she had a huge glass of water that she’d already drank through at least three times. 

“I must apologize for pushing this meeting while you’re in such a _delicate_ condition,” Anduin sat on the other side of the table, with Jaina and Genn on either side of him. The Kaldorei leaders all stood outside the room, staring in through the window with impassive looks on their faces. 

“I doubt my condition would have altered your plans whether you all knew or not,” Thalyssra smiled thinly. “But I appreciate the thought.”

“Your forces!?” Genn wasted no time. “Where are they located!?”

The nightborne swallowed painfully, “Most are currently located in Zandalar, helping the new Queen manage the damage left by your attack.”

“Will they be an issue?” Jaina winced, but still carried on with the questions, “Will they try to free Suramar?”

“They will not try anything that puts the civilians at risk,” Thalyssra answered smoothly. “Not unless they feel you are threatening their safety.”

“We have no need for more violence,” Anduin stated. “Not if you issue an official surrender.”

“And what happens after the surrender order is signed?”

“Steps will be made to induce Suramar into the Alliance,” Anduin answered. “As a territory of the Kaldorei, that is.”

Thalyssra groaned and took a long drink of her water, discomfort shining in her eyes. She wiped at her forehead with the long sleeve of her shirt, her face a picture of unease, “And they agreed to that?”

“It was their idea,” Genn said thinly. “The Shan’do tells me this was once their home.”

“That was a long time ago,” Thalyssra chewed on her lip. She looked pained to get this over with, “Where is the surrender agreement?” 

Anduin pushed the several page document across the table towards her, pulling his hand back as she grabbed at the stack. 

His face was light red, and he kept covering his nose. Even with the hormone suppressants, Thalyssra’s scent was still hard to ignore.

She read over the document quickly, her eyes trailing over every line with the practiced ease that came with thousands of years of governmental service. 

“Further negotiations will be held to oversee the transfer of power to Alliance leadership,” Thalyssra read the last line with pursed lips. “And what is to happen to me? The Stockades?”

Anduin shook his head, “For now, you’ll remain here. Terms of you freedom will be negotiated once the city is secured.”

“Which is likely to be within the next day or two,” Jaina added. “Given our estimates.”

Thalyssra nodded slowly, her eyes were half-lidded, her mind trying to stay focused. The suppressants could only work for so long, and they didn’t last to their normal potency if the affected individual was already experiencing the symptoms of heat. 

She grabbed her pen and signed, signalling the official surrender of Suramar city to the Alliance. 

Maybe, if she hadn’t been in such a state, she would have pushed back more. As it was, she was forced to deal with the cards she’d been dealt. 

“I’d hate to be disrespectful to such _honored_ guests,” Thalyssra pushed the document back to the High-King, her signature bold against the white page. “But I think it’s best I return to the chamber. Advisor Lunastre knows all procedures relating to the city. She can assist for now.”

“Very well,” Anduin rose from his seat and gestured at one of the nearby guards. “Please escort the First Arcanist back to her assigned chamber.”

The guard nodded and stepped forward. 

Only to make the mistake of grabbing the nightborne by her arm.

Thalyssra’s reaction was immediate, her ears pinning back as she hissed defensively and pulled her arm back, jumping from the seat and backing into the nearest wall.

The guards startled at the sudden action, instinctively drawing their swords in response. 

Genn snarled something unintelligible, while Jaina jumped to her feet, voice reverberating through the room, “STOP!” She commanded, gesturing angrily at the offending guard, “Stand down! You should know better than to touch someone when they’re in _heat!”_

“What she said,” Thalyssra heaved, sending the guard a royally pissed look. 

Anduin held up his hands placatingly, “Please escort the First Arcanist back _without_ contact.”

“Yes, my king,” the guard responded sheepishly, waiting respectfully for the delta to climb to her feet and sulk around them. 

Anduin watched the two leave with a frown on his face, “That went well. Mostly.”

Genn scoffed, while Jaina let out an irritated sigh, “With the surrender now official, it’ll make things easier with getting the city under control. But we still need to figure out how we’ll bring Suramar under Alliance rule.”

“Treaties are worthless unless we have something binding to hold them together,” Genn said. “I think we’re all aware of that by now.”

“That’s a lesson we’ve learned quite well, Genn,” Anduin replied tiredly. Despite everything going better than they could have predicted, something felt like it was still hanging over their heads. 

“There’s paperwork to be done,” Jaina turned towards the door. “I’ll look through Suramar’s current law code. Perhaps something in there might be useful for the transfer of power.”

Anduin nodded, while Genn straightened his stance, “I’m going to go check in on our troops. Make sure they aren’t acting like wild mongrels.”

The young king nodded, watching as the Gilnean king trudged out of the room after his auntie. 

After a moment of silent deliberation, he followed their lead, grabbing up the surrender documents to present to the allies they had waiting outside the room. 

There was still much work to be done.

* * *

“What’s the verdict then?” Valeera lounged across one of the fanciest couches she had ever seen, watching as the conquering leaders met within the Nighthold, their temporary helm of command within the city, after two days of research and deliberation. 

Anduin sent her a suffering look, “Besides the venomous threats from Sylvanas and a relative calm from the other Horde leaders- it’s been unusually easy going so far.”

“Our king is right,” Wyrmbane stood off to Anduin’s back right, advising the King where necessary. “Most of the Nightborne we came into contact with offered minimal resistance, and there’s been no issues since the surrender was signed. We’ve even had instances of champions trying to get back into the city. It’s almost as if they don’t mind being under Alliance control.”

“That’s certainly one way of stating it,” Valeera got up from her spot, walking over to stand at Anduin’s other side. “I’ve been strolling around the city. Strange as it is, most of the citizens seem rather relieved that we’re here.”

“With all the discontent within the Horde, it’s not hard to see why,” Jaina rubbed at the side of her neck, feeling the scarred imprint of a mating mark that had long since faded. “Perhaps they are happy to be out of Sylvanas’s control.”

“Hmm,” Anduin rubbed at his face, before glancing over at the represented Kaldorei leadership, “What of the legality regarding the annexation?”  
“Given the events that have happened since the Legion’s invasion,” Shandris flipped through several sheets of paper, eyes roaming over their contents. “It seems that the First Arcanist has had little time to change or repeal many of the laws from Elisande’s reign. All the changes that were made during the Legion’s hold on the city were repealed, however much of the legal code is either in the _process_ of undertaking changes, or they haven’t been able to get to them yet.”

“Which includes the codes on inheritance and rulership in Suramar,” Jaina further supplied, reaching over and grabbing some of the documents as Shandris held them towards her. “I looked over them with General Feathermoon. _Technically,_ the ruler of Suramar is supposed to be the Grand Magistrix- a position appointed by the ruling monarch of the Kaldorei’s old empire.”

“Elisande was appointed by Aszhara’s predecessor to be the next Grand Magistrix shortly before her death,” Malfurion recalled. “She was only confirmed by Aszhara prior to the Legion’s first invasion.”

“Throughout the years, Elisande remained unmarried and childless,” Shandris folded her fingers together. “Rulership thereby legally fell to Thalyssra as the highest ranking Arcanist in the city after her death.”

“How did Elisande keep sole rulership in her hands for so long?” Anduin wondered. 

“If the codes are based upon the old ways,” Tyrande idly drummed a finger against the table, her dark eyes contemplating. “Then it was because she remained single and childless. A spouse would have held a claim to Suramar as her consort, and a child could have eventually challenged her as a potential heir.”

“Exactly,” Jaina pursed her lips. “If we want something legally binding in the eyes of Suramar’s population, I suggest we follow the codes they currently have and use them to our advantage.”

“Are you…” Greymane blinked, “...suggesting an arranged match?”

Shaw, who had been mostly quiet, raised his eyebrows high up his forehead, “Is that even viable?”

Jaina looked embarrassed, and Anduin had gone cherry red, “Well, it’s the best long-term solution. We could remove her from the city outright and install someone in her place, but that might only inflame the Shal’dorei’s ire.”

“A marriage would be legally binding in both Alliance and Shal’dorei law,” Shandris confirmed. “And would allow a quicker provisional period before Suramar is fully inducted into the Alliance. _But,_ if the city is to be a territory of my people-”

“Then the match would have to be made with someone of importance to your nation,” Anduin realized, his eyes immediately going to the three Kaldorei leaders in the room. 

Shandris seemed uneasy, while her parents were trading unreadable looks. 

“Anyone bonded to the First Arcanist could rule, or appoint someone else, in her stead,” Jaina said. “If we decided to remove Thalyssra from the city during the provisional period, her spouse would have full authority over the territory. They could install an interim ruler or council from the Alliance to oversee Suramar until the First Arcanist is cleared to return.”

“Which likely wouldn’t be until the war is over,” Genn rubbed his temple. “Still, how can we be sure her people will follow through with this? From all we’ve learned, Thalyssra seems to be a beloved ruler to them. The Shal’dorei may take offense if it seems like we’re forcing her into a corner with this marriage idea.”

“We will have to allow considerable leeway for the city while they’re being brought into the fold in order to get her to agree,” Anduin looked over several rough drafts of proposed agreements they had. “ _And_ we’ll have to make sure she’s given all the respect her position deserves while she’s kept away from the city. Her people will have to see that she’s being treated well.” The High-King threaded his fingers together, “We want this to be _lasting._ If we’re going to bring Suramar into the Alliance as a territory of the Night Elves, we’ll need to ensure the deal is good enough for them to stay in the agreement once the war ends.”

“I agree,” Shandris sighed heavily. “During our look through the codes, I came across a trove of petitions and complaints to the First Arcanist from the city’s citizens. It seems that many were becoming more and more disillusioned with the Horde’s side of the war.” She handed a long list of names over to her parents, “And it seems that Advisor Lunastre was being truthful about the number of Shal’dorei with relatives living within Darnassasian borders. They had several lists of identified family members stored away.”

Malfurion took the paper from his daughter, setting it down on the table before him as Tyrande leaned over and looked at the names alongside him. 

Mostly, the names were reported as cousins and other distant relatives. But they both could see a good number of names listed as children, parents, siblings, and grandparents as well. 

The Night-Warrior felt a bizarre mix of anger and sorrow broil together in her heart, “Did you cross check these names with our records?”

“Yes, min’da,” Shandris bowed her head. “Most of these souls are no longer with us. At least a third of the deceased are from the loss of Teldrassil.”

“Do they know?” Malfurion could hardly believe how many citizens of the city had relatives outside the bubble, although given that they were effectively immortal until only a short time ago, it wasn’t that far off for him to accept.

Shandris shook her head, “Thalyssra couldn’t fulfill the requests due to a blackout of information. She didn’t want Sylvanas to discover the discontent within Suramar. I found a couple messages sent of her seeking council from other notable Horde leaders. Apparently, she was fearful of what Sylvanas could do to the city if she believed the Shal’dorei to be disloyal.”

“We should make sure they find out the truth,” Malfurion looked at the list sadly. “Now that the Banshee is no longer a concern for them.”

“Agreed,” Anduin turned to look at Wyrmbane. “Make sure official reports are made up on the casualties for their relatives in the city- with all proper decorum befitting their race and manner of death as members of the Alliance.”

The man nodded once in understanding, reaching over his king’s shoulder to take the offered list from the Shan’do. 

“In the meantime,” Jaina reminded them. “There’s still the issue of the First Arcanist.”

“A normal mating bond would work,” Tyrande’s voice was grudgingly accepting of the idea. “Especially since she carries the delta-variation.”

“How does that affect it?” Anduin asked curiously. Delta’s were exceptionally rare in humans, and he had heard little about the off-shoot omega dynamic. 

“The delta-variation allows an omega to carry the mark of _anyone,_ even those who are mated to another,” Malfurion explained. “Their scent is more potent as a result, and their hormone levels are naturally elevated beyond normal. It stresses the mating bond far quicker, which causes a need for the mark to be renewed at least four times more often than other omegas would require.”

“Back during the days of the Empire, delta’s would often flee to the Temples of Elune for sanctuary from arranged matches. Their families would often sell them to nobles and pleasure houses due to their high fertility and rarity. Mated couples within the nobility who were unable to have children would often arrange matches with deltas to ensure the family line survived. Most with the variation didn’t have any choice but to obey, although the ones who did flee would come to the temples for safe-haven. They are sacred to Elune and it is forbidden to force them to leave,” Tyrande added, remembering the stories from when she was young. “I imagine the First Arcanist’s scent suppressant use must be a carry over from that time. The old practices were not kind to omegas with her variation.”

“Given all that,” Anduin drummed his fingers against the table. “I agree that the match must be made with someone of notable significance from your people.” He nodded his head in their direction, “In the Alliance, you have the most historically in common with the Nightborne, and they’re more likely to accept the annexation if the First Arcanist’s match is on equal footing with her politically.” 

“Anyone less than that could be taken as an insult,” Malfurion concurred on that point.

“Who then?” King Greymane asked, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“My presence is required across Azeroth to mobilize our forces for the war effort,” Shandris pointed out the map they had on the table. “I could do it, but then we’d have to take into consideration that her position would not be secure since she’d have to come along with me.”

“She’d be far too close to the warfronts and to her former Horde compatriots. The whole point of removing her from Suramar is to ensure she’s somewhere the Horde will be hesitant to try and get to her,” Jaina shook her head. “There’s too much risk, _and_ it could strain the focus you need to keep on the war effort.”

“Agreed,” Malfurion clasped a hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “You have a full plate already. Perhaps it’s best not to add to it.”

Shandris gave her an'da a soft smile, although there was visible relief shining in her eyes.

“What about Warden Shadowsong?” Shaw recalled the scary night elf, “Would she be good for this?”

All three present Kaldorei leaders pulled a grimacing face. The Shan’do immediately shook his head almost fearfully, “Besides the fact that she’s captain of the Wardens, who are mainly a military branch and have minimal political power, Maeiv would _not_ agree to being matched in this manner.”

Tyrande sounded almost amused at the idea, “She prefers her freedom.”

Valeera whistled lowly, leaning over the back of Anduin’s chair, “Can’t say I blame her.”

The young lion batted at the hands coming over the back of his chair, shooting the spy a half-tired, half-amused look, “Who else fits the criteria?”

“Given the size and importance of Suramar,” Tyrande’s fingers drummed a steady beat against the table, and she shared a long searching look with her husband, who smiled softly at her in response. “There’s only one viable option left.”

Shandris blinked suddenly, recognizing the tone in her mother’s voice, “You, min’da?” 

Tyrande nodded her head slowly, her face’s emotionless expression looked as if it were carved from marble, “So it seems.”

“But-” Anduin sputtered, “ _Malfurion-_ ”

“I’m afraid I am not a viable option,” the druid said wirely. “For one, I am a beta. Any mark I left on a delta would fade far too quickly.” He pursed his lips, “As well as other reasons that you will just have to take my word for.”

“Well yes, but-” Anduin’s face was red, “Tyrande would have to take another mate. You would be ok with that?”

Malfurion smiled lightly, squeezing his wife’s fingers tenderly when she took his hand, “Believe it or not, young lion, but our relationship is rather complex with a different understanding of fidelity than what humans may see as normal. We’ve been together over ten thousand years now- you’ll just have to trust me when I say there will be no issue.”

“Of- of course,” Anduin sputtered, his voice thick with embarrassment. “I meant no disrespect.”

“And none was taken,” the druid sounded as if he were holding back laughter. “Do not worry.”

“And you Tyrande?” Genn asked, “You will be ok with this?”

“ _Goddess willing_ ,” the Night-Warrior’s eyes seemed to darken in the light. “I will be fine.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The second time they met with Thalyssra she looked a little bit better than before.

Her hair was wet from being washed, and her skin didn’t carry as much sweat as last time. 

From her scent, it was still easy to tell that she was in the height of her heat, but physically she took all the precautions needed to hide her symptoms.

Not that it mattered very much anyway. 

The delta looked over the proposed document with critical eyes. Each passing second felt like an eternity, and the First Arcanist’s poker face was coming undone the more she read. 

“So...” She pinched the bridge of her nose, “I have to be _married_ and _mated_ for the agreement to be valid.” 

Anduin nodded, “It is the best option to consider in both your laws and ours for a lasting agreement.”

The First Arcanist chuckled lowly, “I knew I should have changed those damn codes.” 

She pursed her lips, looking back over the proposal with a troubled look, as she steadily avoided eye contact with the Kaldorei leaders, “It says I will have to leave Suramar for the provisional period?”

“For security reasons,” Anduin pointed out. “You were a member of Horde only a few days ago. The provisional period will be to ensure everything goes smoothly for your induction into the Alliance, and for the transfer of power as a state of the Darnassian Nation. Rulership will still fall ultimately to you, but there will be an interim council overseeing Suramar until your trustworthiness can be confirmed.”

“Which could be as soon as the end of the war,” Shandris added. “Seeing that Suramar cooperates as outlined in the agreement.”

“I doubt there will be any issue with that,” Thalyssra turned another page. “Where will I be going?”

“As it stands, our people have relocated to the areas surrounding Nordrassil,” Malfurion answered. “You’ll be staying with us at the main settlement in Mount Hyjal.”

“I see.” For the first time since she’d read the document, Thalyssra made eye contact with the Night Elf leaders. 

Malfurion looked oddly content and unconcerned about the situation. And oddly enough, that was comforting in a way to Thalyssra- better to know the Night-Warrior’s husband was ok with effectively having to share his wife from now on. Especially considering that the archdruid was someone she _really_ wasn’t keen on making an enemy out of. 

But Tyrande was a different issue. 

The Night-Warrior kept a fixed gaze on Thalyssra, and nothing had ever unnerved the nightborne more than the alpha’s dark eyes. 

Under normal circumstances, she would have felt immediately on alert, like she needed to find a hidden corner and cower out of fear. 

Inwardly, her heat-addled brain was processing it differently, and she tried not to buckle under the half-appraising/half-glaring look that was coming her way. 

Having had enough of the staring contest, Thalyssra turned back to the document. The political stuff had been covered in the first few pages, but the marriage portion of the agreement still had some parts that she had not yet covered. 

Flipping to the final page, she balked at the contents, something akin to shock washing over her, “ _Children!?_ Wha- _What!?_ I dare say the bond should be enough!”

“The provision for children is only applicable if you purposely or accidentally fall pregnant,” Anduin explained. “It’s irrelevant if you’re not with child or don’t plan to be.”

“Kaldorei law calls for such clauses when marriage contracts are made,” Tyrande threaded her fingers across her stomach. “Protections for the child’s legal rights should a pregnancy occur.”

“I see,” Thalyssra closed her eyes and exhaled harshly. “What happens once the provisional period is up and I return to Suramar? How will this work then?”

“Cohabitation will be up to you,” Anduin replied. “As long as the mating bond remains healthy, and Suramar is able to thrive as a Darnassian providence, you’ll be given complete freedom of how you chose to go about this.”

“What happens if I refuse?” 

“We draft a new agreement,” Anduin stated. “Although Suramar would not be given the same protections afforded in this one, and you would not be allowed to remain in charge at any capacity due to the nature of the surrender proclamation.”

Thalyssra was silent for a long time, staring down at the line where her signature would go. She ran her hands through her hair, nerves running up and down her spine. 

She wasn’t sure if this was the best option for _her,_ but for Suramar? For her people?

As it was, they wouldn’t get a better offer.

It was hard to ignore the eyes drilling into her as she picked up the pen, and the First Arcanist had to fight back the urge to growl and bare her teeth as the sense of doom became near unbearable. 

And yet, it is relatively easy to sign her name, her penship flawless, right on that empty line. 

She stares at the table blankly as Tyrande signs her part, before the document is handed over to King Wrynn and General Feathermoon to sign respectively as the overseer and witness.

“What happens now?” Thalyssra’s throat felt dry, and her stomach was practically brimming with butterflies.

“We leave for Hyjal tomorrow,” Malfurion nodded towards his daughter. “Shandris will oversee the city until an official interim is established . There will be a ceremony within the month, and official notices will be sent out.”

“The bond will need to be made before we leave,” Tyrande rubbed at her temple. “To ensure there’s no issues once you’re in Hyjal.”

“You mean to make sure I don’t try to back out and run,” Thalyssra asked humorlessly, leaning back in her seat with a hollow smile. “I imagine _it_ will happen today then?”

The priestess inclined her head in affirmation, while Anduin and Shandris took the opportunity to excuse themselves. Anduin preferred to respect their privacy, whereas Shandris didn’t envy hearing about what her mother’s bedroom life was about to be like. 

Her gaze shifted to Malfurion, who she couldn’t believe still looked completely calm, “Are you truly ok with this, Archdruid?”

“I am,” Malfurion assented, “This would hardly be the first time my wife has taken another lover.”

“Considering the circumstances, somehow this seems a bit more _permanent_ ,” Thalyssra points out. “I do not wish to cause any strife between you two.”

“You don’t have to worry about that, First Arcanist,” Tyrande answers for her husband, although her voice carried steel. “Malfurion and I have been together for several millennia. He will always be in my heart, just as I will always be in his. Our relationship is eternal in a way that few could understand.”

“I see,” Thalyssra stared down at the table, only looking up once the silence became too uncomfortable, “Is it too much to ask that you wait until tonight? I have about a dozen different suppressants currently in my system, and the extreme nausea they bring is not likely to go away for another few hours.” She winced, “Plus, I’ll undoubtedly be more _agreeable_ if it happens while in the throes of my heat.”

Tyrande signals her agreement with a single nod. “I imagine I will be able to find you in the heat chamber?”

“Considering my condition, it is the safest place for me at the moment,” The delta sighed tiredly. “The entrance is enchanted to keep me inside and keep unwanted guests out while I’m vulnerable. I will add your arcane signature to allow you entry.” 

“Very well,” Tyrande rose to her feet, looking every bit like a stone-faced goddess. “I will see you later tonight, First Arcanist.”

Thalyssra nodded once, watching as the Night-Warrior strolled out of the room. 

Malfurion stood after her, pausing for a moment to look back at the arcanist, “We will leave early in the morning. I will take several attendants to collect your things today. Do you have anything in particular you wish to come to Hyjal?”

“Ly’leth has a list of my most precious valuables,” the delta answers. “As well as where I keep them.”

“I will approach her then,” he bowed his head in farewell. _“Ande thoras ethil.”_

Thalyssra sat there for several moments, an uncomfortable sensation slowly building back up between her thighs as the suppressants began to wear off. 

She finally rose to her feet with a defeated groan, heading back to her heat-chamber with anxiety building in her heart.

* * *

She’s not quite sure what time she fell asleep, but Thalyssra wakes up just as the sun finishes it’s dip below the horizon, the legal paper she had been reading sticking to her face rather comically. 

With an irritated sigh, she sits up and can immediately tell that her heat is back in full-swing.

Her inner thighs are uncomfortably warm, and there’s a good amount of slick at the apex. Her clit throbs almost painfully, and she can’t move without the fabric of her underwear pushing against it. 

It’s maddening how weak her legs suddenly feel, how constricting her clothes feel against her heated skin, how wild her thoughts keep getting as her arousal climbs and climbs with no end in sight.

She manages to walk to the bathroom, going through her nightly routine before returning to the bed chamber. 

The moment Thalyssra gets close to the exit, she scents the sweet smell of lilac and vanilla in the air. 

Immediately, she knows Tyrande’s on the other side of the bathroom door.

The arcanist freezes. Logically, she knows the alpha can scent her too, so it’s not like hiding in the wash room would do any good.

Still, she’s not sure she’s ready for what is waiting for her. 

Taking a deep breath, Thalyssra opens the door, walking out in her bathrobe and little else.

Tyrande sits on the edge of the bed, polishing her war-glaive with a sweet-smelling clothe. 

Her attention snaps over to her as soon as she steps out, nostrils flaring as the Night-Warrior catches her heat-enhanced scent. 

Her hair, wet from the shower, feels undeniably cool against her boiling skin, and Thalyssra is quite sure she’s melting under that intense gaze. 

Tyrande’s eyes are undeniably scary- her sight _burns_ along her skin, and yet, as it is, it’s hard to think of them as anything except alluring. 

Tyrande appears as any alpha would- dominating and strong. She inspects her body with interest in her eyes, a twinkle of approval flashing in her dark pupils as they roam over her curves. She sets her glaive down beside the bed, her sight never leaving the other's body. 

Thalyssra’s knees go weak as her scent clog her nostrils. Every cell in her body suddenly thrills at the prospect of a worthy mate, and the urge to submit pounds in her head. 

She teeters, eyes blinking as her vision goes blurry. A pair of strong hands clasp around her upper arms, steadying her as the faintness passes. 

Tyrande moved fast enough for Thalyssra to miss it, closing the distance between them in less than a second. 

Her eyes, while not overly concerned, definitely had lost the previous indifference they held in the meeting.

“Sorry,” Thalyssra struggles to speak, her mind going hazy as the alpha’s proximity pushes her body into heat-overdrive. “I just wasn’t expecting your scent…” She took a deep breath, “...to _affect_ me so much.”

“I see,” Tyrande leans forward, her nose pressing into the side of the delta’s neck. “Perhaps that is a good omen.”

The First Arcanist can’t even bring herself to reply. The feel of a nose against her neck is replaced by a mouth, and she tilts her head to the side on instinct as the alpha drags her teeth across the unmarked skin. 

Her core is unbearably hot and her clit aches for desperately needed relief. Before the delta even realizes what she’s doing, a quiet “ _Please_ ,” escapes her throat.

Tyrande hums, her voice a whisper in her ear, “Tell me if you desire to stop at any point.”

The arcanist nods in understanding, barely able to formulate words as she’s pulled over to her own bed.

With quick hands, the Night-Warrior removes her robe, leaving Thalyssra naked as she’s pushed onto the mattress. 

There’s a low dominant growl that emanates from the High-Priestess’s chest as she looms over her, causing the arcanist to instinctively present herself as the call to mate becomes too much for her heat-affected brain to ignore. 

Her thighs spread open without resistance, the wetness building at her core as her clit throbs in anticipation. 

Her heat cycle ensures there’s no need for foreplay, but that doesn’t stop the kaldorei from carefully pressing two fingers into her, testing the resistance her walls give. 

Truthfully, there’s not much. She clenches down against the digits, her body writhing as the need for more builds. Tyrande’s teeth bite down on her neck possessively, not hard enough to break skin and leave a bonding mark, but it still sends strikes of electricity racing down her spine.

Thalyssra whines and bucks her hips, eager for some much needed relief, and her new mate obliges. 

For the First Arcanist, it is hard to tell exactly what happened after that. She’s lost in a haze of lust and pleasure, and every fiber in her body reacts to the stimulation as the possibility of _finally_ being properly fucked moves closer and closer to reality. 

Her mind reverts to its most primal omega-like state, wanting only to be touched, filled, and _bred_ as if she were some kind of broodmare. 

She wants to be claimed, wholly and completely, to a degree that she’s _never_ desired before. 

And somehow, she’s too far gone to be terrified of the implications. 

Her first orgasm hits almost embarrassingly quickly, sending trembles throughout her body as her eyes roll to the back of her head. 

Tyrande’s thumb rubs fast little circles onto her preening clit as the two fingers inside her curve and twist, rubbing against a rough little patch of skin that damn near has her seeing stars. 

She doesn’t get a chance to recover, cumming again less than a minute later as her heart pounds away in her chest. 

There’s an embarrassing amount of wetness pouring from her pulsing core, and she’s all too aware of the amount she’s dripping on the alpha’s hand. 

The green-haired elf pulls her hand away after the last pulses of her second orgasm pass, “I think you’re ready.”

“I’m four days into my heat,” Thalyssra’s voice cracked. “ _Of course_ I’m ready.”

“ _Be silent_ ,” Tyrande’s command sends bolts of electricity straight to her core, and the delta squirms with need as the alpha begins kissing her way down the taller woman’s body. “I want to taste you first.” 

She grasps the nightborne’s full breasts in her hands, lavishing attention onto them, swirling her tongue around the delta’s hardened nipples. 

Thalyssra’s chest heaves, her arousal continuing to build as tiny whimpers of need escape her mouth. 

Finally, the alpha continues moving south, kissing down the arcanist’s stomach and settling between her thighs with confidence. 

Thalyssra can barely breath the moment she feels a warm tongue sweep through her folds, her back arching with pleasure as a strong grip holds her hips in place. 

At first, Tyrande laps at her opening, delving into her inner walls and cherishing the feeling of the muscle’s clench around her tongue. 

The sounds the delta makes isn’t bad either, soft whines and pants for more floating into her ears as Thalyssra tries desperately to grind her hips against the Night-Warrior’s mouth. 

Finally, sensing the delta’s arousal beginning to plateau, Tyrande licks up to the arcanist’s sensitive clit, fitting her lips around the area and sucking as her tongue laps selfishly against it. 

Thalyssra damn near _shrieks,_ grabbing at the alpha’s hair as another orgasm quickly builds. 

There’s a moment of hesitation where her body resists cumming, but that’s quickly canceled out by the sensation of Tyrande humming pointedly against her core, the vibrations sending her over the edge as wetness _gushed_ out from her. 

Immediately she feels her face burning, and she can barely meet Tyrande’s gaze as the alpha looks up at her, licking her lips pointedly before pulling back and removing her armor.

“You squirted,” Tyrande was grudgingly impressed. 

“That…” Thalyssra clenched her eyes shut, “That doesn’t usually happen. My body- it’s rare.”

The alpha snorts, as if she doesn't quite believe her, and grabs at the arcanist's jaw, “Look at me.”

Thalyssra opens her eyes, her gaze meeting the Night-Warrior’s head on. Tyrande looks at her like she’s a piece of meat, and that’s something she isn’t quite sure she’ll ever get used to. 

Thalyssra swallows dryly; no matter how many times she’d seen Tyrande’s eyes by now, the power in her stare was still enough to immediately make her want to bare her neck and submit. 

It only takes a matter of seconds for the stare-off to become too much, and Thalyssra averts her gaze, turning her eyes towards the alpha’s body instead. 

Only to realize how intimidating that was as well. 

Tyrande had what could only be described as a total ‘goddess-body.’ She was muscular in all the right ways, while still having the famous curves that so many champions gossiped about. 

And she was an alpha, a very clear and proud one if the sizable phallus hanging from her hips had anything to say about it. 

Thalyssra whimpered as Tyrande once more spread the delta’s thighs apart, dragging the head of her cock through the delta’s folds, collecting her wetness on the shaft to use as lubrication.

“I thought I told you to _look at me!”_ Tyrande’s voice is a quiet snarl, the head of her length presses against Thalyssra’s opening, and the delta goes stiff as pheromones flood the air. 

Her eyes meet the Night-Warrior’s once more, and the two share a moment of stillness. Something Tyrande sees in Thalyssra’s gaze wipes away the alpha’s ire. Instead she leans down, capturing the arcanist’s lips with her own.

Their tongues seem almost hesitant to meet at first, shyly pressing against each other before the tension fades, patience thins, and Tyrande grows bold. Thalyssra relents to the advances and subjects the cavern of her mouth to exploration, her breathing heavy as the alpha’s tongue marks its new territory.

They pull away when the need for air becomes too much to ignore, their foreheads pressed together as they hang suspended in the moment.

“This isn’t how I imagined taking Suramar would end up,” Tyrande speaks softly at first, before her voice turns possessive. “But let me make one thing perfectly clear, from this second on- you’re _mine.”_

The moment the head of her cock sinks past the tight grip of Thalyssra’s front inner walls, Tyrande snaps her hips forward, setting a brutally fast pace that shakes the bed from its force. 

And it certainly doesn’t help that Thalyssra can feel the growing swell of the alpha’s knot brushing against her opening with every thrust. 

_“Ah! Oh gods!”_ The arcanist mewls at the sensation of being filled, gasping when Tyrande grabs her wrists and pins them to the mattress.

“ _By the goddess,_ ” the Night-Warrior moans as she leans down and presses her face into the crook of the delta’s neck. Why are you so _tight_!?”

Thalyssra barely has time to breathe before Tyrande’s throwing her legs over the crook of her elbows, the angle of their hips changing as the alpha savors the feeling of her cock sheathing inside the nightborne’s warmth. 

The thrusts hit deeper than before, rubbing against that sensitive little spot along her front inner wall with each push in and each push out. 

It leaves her teetering on the edge of oblivion, her entire body shaking as that pleasurable fire in her core builds and builds with each passing thrust. 

Their hips smack together sharply, filling the chamber with vulgar sounds as the alpha ruts into her prey with lustful purpose. 

This seems to go on forever; sweat drips down Tyrande’s face, and Thalyssra throws her head back against the mattress as her breasts bounce with each push of the priestess’s hips.

Moaning cries of pleasure escape her without end, making sure everyone within hearing range of the chamber knows exactly what was going on within. 

“Touch yourself,” Tyrande pants, releasing her hold on her wrists, “I want to feel you cumming while I’m inside you. _”_

Thalyssra obeys, licking at her fingers before reaching for the apex point between her thighs, rubbing at her clit as orgasmic energy thrums through her veins.

Tyrande moans at the feeling of her walls pulsating and squeezing around her, the sensations being enough to push the alpha into the beginnings of her own release. 

Her thrusts slow, her hips pushing in until her fully engorged knot presses against the nightborne’s eager opening. 

She mouths at the unmarked side of Thalyssra’s neck, and Thalyssra’s fingers stall as the feeling of teeth pressing against her skin wipes all other thought from her body. 

The delta presents her neck instinctively, a scream of pleasure ripping from her throat as she feels the simultaneous sensation of teeth breaking skin and a knot pushing past her weeping opening. 

Tyrande downright _growls_ when she cums, a sound that sends bolts of arousal straight to Thalyssra’s core as it reverberates throughout her body. 

Another orgasm slams into her, and her inner walls ripple and clamp down around the alpha’s knot, firmly binding them together as a rush of the Night-Warrior’s essence floods her womb. 

The distinct feeling of a new bond forming sends tendrils of electricity through her veins, and Thalyssra barely has a moment to think as her vision waivers, the action a warning of her impending blackout before everything goes dark. 

She comes to about a minute later, her vision immediately settling on the visage of Tyrande Whisperwind staring down at her. 

“I think that might have been a bit more intense than I’d thought it would be,” Thalyssra admits, still all too aware of the knot currently stuck inside her. 

“Perhaps so,” Tyrande says. She pumps her hips once, testing her knot’s hold. 

The action is highly uncomfortable to Thalyssra, who involuntarily pins her ears back and hisses at her in response. 

Tyrande raises an eyebrow at that, unimpressed and unamused, “Do _not_ hiss at me.”

“Then don’t move,” Thalyssra retorts, equally unimpressed at the priestess’s gall.

“Hmph,” the alpha reaches over and grabs a sheet, pulling it over them as she leans down and presses her cheek against Thalyssra’s shoulder. It takes a moment for the two to get comfortable, especially given the way they were stuck together, but they make do. 

“It’ll probably be an hour before I can pull out,” Tyrande warns. 

“I’ll be fine,” Thalyssra reaches up and grabs a pillow, lifting her head just enough to move it underneath.

She listens to the even tone of Tyrande’s breathing as the priestess drifts off to sleep, the action itself being difficult for the arcanist. 

The mark on her neck aches, and she tries to ignore the way it throbs as the mating bond settles. 

Going into heat, she was prepared for a difficult week in which she would become innately familiar with her hand and the few toys she bought. All the worst situations she expected involved Valtrois causing her usual havoc and nothing more. 

Horde intelligence had no inkling an Alliance attack was coming, and her city being conquered definitely wasn’t something she had _any_ idea would happen during her miserable second day in the heat chamber. 

And yet here they were. Suramar would now join the Alliance under the Darnassian banner, stripped of their independence as a nation, while she became a glorified plaything for the _already married_ Tyrande Whisperwind until they found it feasible to let her return to the city. 

No matter how many times she looked over the cards fate had dealt her, Thalyssra couldn’t stop pondering what a strange situation she found herself in.

* * *

The first week at Hyjal is difficult. 

Thalyssra is given a room and bath on the far side of the leaders’ residence to stay in. Of course, it’s not very big, so she’s still guaranteed to run into them, but she’s undoubtedly relieved at being given an inkling of breathing room. 

In the past, she’d always been very independent. There were relationships here and there, but her personal preferences always kept those instances short and sweet. 

There was less risk that way. A mate would have had too much control over her work, over her very life. She valued her freedom too much to risk it. 

At least that’s how it _was,_ until the Alliance conquered Suramar and changed everything _._

She’s allowed to work on some of the legal paperwork for her city, if only to keep her busy. There are few things they trust her to do in the provisional period of the agreement, and that number becomes even smaller since she is removed from the city and cannot oversee the changes as they happen. 

For a while, she opts to go over the correspondences she receives from a number of her champions, advisors, and most importantly, her friends. 

The champions of the Suramar are somewhat confused about exactly how they’re supposed to proceed. As it was, Horde territories were no longer technically safe for them, but the official reports showed little push-back against the champions who chose to stay. Most leaders seemed accepting of their presence, especially in Zandalar and Silvermoon, provided they did not start any trouble. 

But Thalyssra knew that would change eventually. Her nation had a plethora of magically-skilled warriors, and sooner or later the Alliance would require their service. 

Ly’leth wrote about the new interim council that had been set up. She was granted a seat to deal with internal matters, mostly due to her cooperation following their initial surrender. 

The city had experienced an influx of Alliance citizens upon the initial announcement about Suramar’s induction into the Darnassian Nation. Night Elves in particular flocked there, many of them eager to see what had become of it. As if overnight, there was talk of gardens and forests being planted, of the scarred land of the broken isles being healed. 

Admittingly it wasn’t all bad. But her people had spent far too long sealed away in a city of marble. She worried about the culture clash that the nature-minded kaldorei would surely bring to Suramar’s population. 

Occuleth wrote his usual ramble, discussing the inconsistencies of the Alliance portal systems he’d been recruited to inspect and listing all the ways he plans to improve them. It was only in the last sentence that he remembered to infer about how well she was doing, offering his, admittedly limited, assistance in whatever way he could. 

It was so familiar that Thalyssra couldn’t help the smile that came over her face, tears pricking at her eyes as the sudden loneliness of her situation hit her. 

Stubbornly, she blinked them away, refusing to allow herself to wallow in pity. Her people had gotten a _good_ deal out of this. That was all that mattered. Her situation was temporary. She just had to wait for the provisional period to pass, and then she’d be allowed to retake her position as leader of Suramar.

The fact that it’d be a satellite state of the Kaldorei nation didn’t even bother her as much as she thought it would. 

It was better than it being a city under military rule, after all. 

Valtrois was the only one who didn’t bother hiding her anger at the situation. The arcanist wasn’t as upset about the Alliance overtaking their city as she was about Tyrande claiming the First Arcanist as a mate under such circumstances. 

She offered about a hundred different kinds of insults towards her, calling the priestess such vulgar names that the intelligence agents who vetted her letters actually redacted some of the more offensive phrases. 

After about three pages worth of blacked-out insults and curses, and another page going on about the alpha’s sheer _audacity_ , Valtrois seemed to remember she was supposed to be checking up on Thalyssra. She wrote about how Stellagosa was attempting to convince Kalecgos to give them clearance to go to Hyjal to see her as honorary agents of the Kirin Tor. Given that the two had been spending most of their time as residents of Dalaran, Valtrois was hopeful that the request would be granted. 

Thalyssra felt a flower of hope bloom in her chest at that; the official legal ceremony wasn’t going to be for another week, and the chance to see Valtrois before then would undoubtedly help to relieve some of the tense anxiety she felt gnawing away at her heart. 

Odd as it was, somehow she’d felt _less_ nervous leading a rebellion against Elisande than she does now. 

There’s a flutter at the open window behind her, and the noise causes Thalyssra to turn and look. 

Dori’thur, Tyrande’s spirit companion, sits patiently and stares at her with a curious gaze. The priestess sends the owl to check on the arcanist at least twice a day when Malfurion and her are gone from the residence, no doubt making sure the arcanist hasn’t tried to run.

Truthfully, Thalyssra doesn’t mind it. The spirit is friendly with her, and allows her to pet and scratch at its feathers. 

She curiously even feels the power of Elune’s presence in the creature’s body- something that the researcher in her wonders about. 

Thalyssra smiles at seeing the companion, standing and approaching as the owl hooted lightly at her in greeting. 

It preens its head into her hand, trilling as she scratches at the top of its crown. 

She giggles as it presses its head against her stomach affectionately, nuzzling into the purple fabric of her robes before looking up at the Shal’dorei expectantly. 

“Go tell your master I’m still here,” Thalyssra chuckles. “The only other place that’s seen me today is the kitchen.”

Dori’thur hoots at her in response, butting its head insistently against her stomach one more time. Then it turns, leaping from the window and into the sky in one smooth movement.

Thalyssra stares after the owl for a moment, before shaking her head and going back to her desk. 

She still had letters to read after all. 


	2. Legally Binding

For all the pomp and circumstance the nobility of Suramar so loved, Thalyssra was never fond of the fancy dressings so many of her kin seemed to adore. 

Her mage robes were comfortable, light, and allowed for easy movement. They weren’t very extravagant as most expected given her position, since practicality was Thalyssra’s main concern. 

Yet despite her fondness for them, her friends (particularly the sassy one currently in Dalaran) would have an aneurysm if she even _considered_ wearing them to her own wedding. 

Valtrois and Stellagosa had been given clearance to visit Hyjal, but due to security concerns, they wouldn’t be allowed to interact with Thalyssra until _after_ the wedding ceremony. 

Which means the reception was bound to be an emotional reunion supplemented with several (hopefully) bottles of wine. 

She’d suffered through a week of daily fittings, food choices, music ensembles, and location viewings to get to this point. With the ceremonial side of their union cemented, Thalyssra would be allowed a smidgen of more breathing room in Hyjal. Truth be told, despite the harsh circumstances of her residence here, she was _excited_ at finally being able to see more of the legendary mountain and world tree. 

Even if she would have to have sentinels escorting her whenever she left the main settlement near the lake. 

Standing before the mirror, Thalyssra was _very_ aware of how out of place she felt. 

Several young novice priestesses had volunteered to help her get ready, the newest of them barely looking old enough to even be considered an adult. 

Still, it was hard not to smile at the sheer curiosity they showed about her arcane markings. They seemed especially excited about how they glowed, squealing with delight when she purposely caused them to glow brighter and more vibrant. 

Her dress was white, with lace stitched over the soft fabric. Patterns of leaves and crescent moons decorated the lace sleeves, and they stood out against her skin even more than her markings did. 

The top was semi form fitting, enough so that her curves were complemented without the fabric feeling restricting. The dress pinned at her waist, flowing down her legs smoothly.

All in all, the dress was airy and cool, something that was highlighted by Hyjal’s temperate climate. 

Her hair, normally allowed to hang loose and usually covered by her hood, had been curled and pinned up. Coupled with her subtle makeup, Thalyssra very much felt like some sort of doll. 

Physically, she didn’t feel very well either. Due to the mating bond essentially acting like a suppressant, Thalyssra no longer needed potions to dull and hide her actual scent. 

However, there were side effects to going off of them, and they were _not_ fun to deal with. 

Her head hurt, her breasts ached, and her stomach was constantly growing nauseous for no reason whatsoever. 

Luckily, there was medication to help alleviate the withdrawal symptoms, but even those helped only to a certain extent. 

“All done, First Arcanist,” the priestess, a cheerful omega named Sylina, bowed her head. “It’s time to head into the main antechamber for the ceremony.” 

Thalyssra found she couldn’t speak, nodding her head instead as she turned and allowed herself to be led out of the small room within the temple. 

It’s not a long walk, and upon arriving at the entrance, Thalyssra is able to look in and see the guests.

Both Kaldorei and Shal'dorei wedding ceremonies were usually small. Receptions and other celebrations could be big, but the actual event was preferred to be a private thing. 

In the political world, a normal wedding of this magnitude could be expected to host up to a thousand guests. 

Thalyssra was relieved to see no more than 100 at hers. 

There was a sound to her right, someone clearing their throat politely, and she looked to see Malfurion waiting patiently to catch her attention. 

“ _Elune-Adore,_ Archdruid,” Thalyssra greeted, bowing her head respectfully. 

“ _Elune-Adore,_ First Arcanist,” Malfurion bowed as well, before straightening up and nodding to the novice priestesses. “I believe I can take it from here.”

The small group of night-elves all giggled and bowed, before scurrying away like a flock of hens. 

Malfurion sighed, “I apologize if they were a bit much to handle. The younger priestesses tend to be more excitable about these events.”

“No, they were quite alright,” Thalyssra says, smiling lightly. “I would have never been able to get ready without them.”

“Very good,” Malfurion smiles back at her, and Thalyssra can’t help but feel a little calmer. 

The last two weeks, while lonely, hadn’t been spent totally isolated due to the druid’s efforts to help her adjust. 

She learned that the Shan'do was quite fond of cooking when he had the time, since he had been the one to show her around the residence when they first arrived, pointing out the kitchen and where they kept everything. 

Truthfully, ever since her arrival in Hyjal, she saw more of Malfurion than she did Tyrande. The alpha had been constantly patrolling back to the Darkshore warfront with Shandris, dealing with the Horde advances that had occurred when the bulk of their army had been tied up with the aftermath of Suramar’s siege on the Broken Isles. She hadn’t seen Tyrande in days, and the absence somehow made the impending ceremony even more nerve wracking. 

He was definitely a bit more _goofy_ than she expected. He had a good heart, that was for sure, and he was intelligent in the way that a leader must be. 

But when it came down to it, he was a bit absent minded. Not _dumb,_ per say. More like he was just a bit slow on the uptake. 

Pair that with Tyrande’s straight _freakiness,_ and Thalyssra wasn’t quite sure how their relationship went along so well given the bizarre differences they had. 

Then again, she imagined Malfurion’s light-heartedness was probably _good_ for Tyrande as well. Especially given the drastic change in temperament she’d undergone since becoming the Night-Warrior. 

The beta clears his throat again, one of his hands resting in his pocket. 

That’s when the delta takes a moment to look over him. He trimmed his beard, no doubt caused by the nagging she heard Shandris giving him about appearances the other day, and his hair was trimmed several inches and pulled back. 

He wore rich green robes, with a magnificently carved wooden buckle on his belt. 

There were no shoes on his feet, but that was probably due more to his unique druid-esqe physiology. 

In all, he looked nice- sharp even. And it was an eye-popping change compared to his usual style. 

“You look fetching,” Thalyssra blinked, a sly smile on her face. “I think Shandris finally got through to you.”

“Ah,” the druid chuckled. “You heard her little lecture then?”

“I think everyone within a hundred meters of the house heard,” Thalyssra responded. “I pray Elune protects you from your daughter’s future righteous lectures on appearance.”

“If only,” Malfurion sighed dramatically, a tinge of humor in his voice. 

The light-hearted joking helped to ease Thalyssra’s nerves, and she almost forgot about the ceremony looming over her. 

_Almost,_ that is.

“Excuse me, Archdruid, First Arcanist,” A senior priestess popped her head in through the doorway. “We’re going to start momentarily.”

“Very well,” Malfurion pulled his hand from his pocket, holding something in his hand. “I have something for you.” He held out his hand, and Thalyssra glanced curiously down at it.

There was a necklace, with a silver chain and a emerald colored jewel encrusted in the center of a white-gold pendant. 

“It’s beautiful,” Thalyssra took the necklace carefully. “For good luck?”

“I did a little research on delta courting procedures,” Malfurion admitted. “I know most were skipped in favor of practicality, but it was practice for the courting alpha’s other partner to offer a gift as a sign of goodwill and luck.”

Thalyssra’s throat suddenly felt dry, her eyes watering, “Oh, well _thank you._ I- It’s very kind.” Her lip trembled, “ _You’re_ very kind.”

She took a deep breath, willing the emotion away before fixing the necklace around her neck with unusually steady hands. 

The pendent rested against the swell of her bust, standing out against the stark white fabric with striking clarity. It’s chain felt cool against her otherwise bare neck, and Thalyssra couldn’t help the shiver that traveled up and down her spine as the metal brushed against the sensitive healing skin of her fresh bonding mark. 

It reminded her of how obviously it stood out against her skin, like a branding mark. 

With her hair pulled back, it was easy to spot, and Thalyssra knew how to recognize a statement- even one that was made nonverbally. 

She was _claimed,_ wholly and completely. And with this wedding, the whole world would find out it was Tyrande Whisperwind she bared her neck too. 

Under normal circumstances, a bonding mark would be cause for celebration. A relationship cemented with complete trust and love for each other. 

In this case, it just felt degrading. 

“You look lovely, First Arcanist,” Malfurion paused, as if he wanted to say something more. Perhaps words of comfort if his concerned expression had anything to do with it. 

But he apparently thought better of it, holding out an arm in offering, “Shall we?”

Thalyssra nodded, taking his arm and allowing herself to be led to the entrance. 

In tradition, it was expected of the claiming alpha’s other mate to escort the new partner down the aisle. Malfurion had insisted on following that tradition, if only to publicly show his support for the match. 

Given what she’d learned about their relationship, the Kal’dorei people wouldn’t be surprised about his easy-going attitude regarding his wife essentially mating another on the side. 

But the other Alliance nations weren’t as knowledgeable about the situation, and would most likely expect strife to develop. 

This act would hopefully dismiss the idea of any jealousy being a problem, and also help to improve Thalyssra’s own public image as a legitimate mate of the High-Priestess. 

Still, that didn’t stop the whispers that started up the moment they came into view of the crowd. 

Most of the attendees were Alliance leaders of varying importance and their families. Inwardly, Thalyssra imagined it was probably dangerous to have some many important figures in one area, but she knew it was unlikely for the Warchief (or anyone else for that matter) to try and launch an attack in the heavily defended territory of Hyjal. The place was sacred to nearly _all_ races on Azeroth, and she could think of very little who would condone any damage done to the recovering landscape. 

Thalyssra keeps her head high as they walk towards the altar, steadily ignoring the expectant stares coming their way. 

There’s ten rows of seats, and she barely notices how they all stand as she passes. 

By the time they reach the altar, her neck hurts from keeping it so stiff, and the delta lowers her gaze to finally inspect her soon-to-be legal spouse. 

Tyrande looks… _ravishing._ Her gown is sleeveless, with bits of light armor placed over the fabric on her abdomen, hips, and shoulders. The color is a light grey, which looks luminous in the ethereal light of the temple. 

Her hair flows freely, with the crescent circlet of Elune, a sacred headpiece meant only for the High-Priestess, firmly set atop her head.

The first time Thalyssra had laid eyes on Tyrande, she had just arrived with her forces to help free Suramar from the Legion and Elisande’s hold. The night elf had been shorter than her by nearly half a foot, and while she may have carried the scent of an alpha, she made no effort to pump out pheromones or force submission. 

The sheer magnitude of her presence, and knowledge of all that she had done, had been enough to command respect without need of lording her dynamic over others. 

And Thalyssra had respected that. 

But now, standing eye-to-eye with the woman, the First Arcanist could really see just how taking on the power of the Night-Warrior had changed her. 

Tyrande nearly stood at the same height as her, although Thalyssra still had about two inches on her. Her muscles, while not bulky, were more defined, and her scent _screamed_ strength and vitality. 

It was a change that Thalyssra’s formerly heat-rattled brain had not been able to properly process during their time in Suramar. 

And damn it all, _it was attractive._

The delta swallowed nervously as Malfurion took her hand, gently placing it over Tyrande’s outstretched palm, before stepping back and off to the side. 

He took his place in the front row quietly, sliding in next to where Shandris was standing. 

Together, with practiced ease, Tyrande and Thalyssra turned to face the officiant, threading their fingers together as the Lieutenant-Priestess who had been chosen to run the ceremony wrapped their hands with an arcane-treated ribbon. 

“We are here today to celebrate a momentous occasion,” the Lieutenant-Priestess, an omega if Thalyssra’s nose was correct, spoke with confidence. “We are here to witness the marriage of Tyrande Whisperwind and Thalyssra Alys, the first step in healing a wound that has festered for far too long, the first step in bringing the people of Suramar back home where they belong.”

The speech was awfully pretentious, but Thalyssra couldn’t blame the victors for wanting to pat themselves on the shoulder given all they’ve suffered since the loss of Teldrassil. 

In all, this marriage would represent a victory that the Night Elves’ suffering morale sorely needed. 

“Tyrande Whisperwind- High-Priestess of Elune, sacred bearer of the Night-Warrior, and beloved leader of the Kaldorei- I ask, do you take Thalyssra Alys to be your bonded mate, wife, and companion for as long as you may live? Till death do you part?”

“I do.”

“Do you promise to provide for her? To protect and nurture your bond? So that no other may question your claim?”

“I do.”

The officiant nodded, and Thalyssra barely kept a straight face as the female turned to face her. 

“Thalyssra Alys- First Arcanist of Suramar and leader of the Dusk Lily rebellion- I ask, do you take Tyrande Whisperwind to be your bonded mate, wife, and companion for as long as you may live? Till death do you part?”

Years of political maneuvering kept her voice from shaking, “I do.”

“Do you promise to provide for her? To protect and nurture your bond? So that no other may question your claim?”

This time the words came easier, “I do.”

“Then let it be known that the pledge has been made, the bond protected, and may this union be blessed underneath the light of the goddess!” 

The priestess raised her hand and the ribbon glowed, the fabric feeling warm against her skin as Elune’s blessing on their match was confirmed for all to see. 

Once the glow died down, the officiant removed the ribbon, before stepping back and raising her head once more, “Speak now, so that you may seal your union with a kiss, and the ceremony may end in peace.”

Tyrande turned, raising Thalyssra’s hand as she presented her new bride to the crowd. Her voice was strong and comforting, immediately grasping the attention of every person in the audience, “With this kiss, I pledge to a new beginning for our people. May we never forget those we’ve lost, and may we build a better future in which justice comes swiftly for those who seek to ruin it.”

Then she turned, quick and confident, leaning forward to capture the delta’s lips in a deep, surprisingly mindful kiss. 

When they broke apart, Thalyssra was quite sure her face was burning. 

And not even the applause of the crowd was enough to distract her from the memorizing gaze of the Night-Warrior’s dark eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thalyssra wished she didn’t have such a tolerance for alcohol, because if there was one thing she wanted to be while at her own wedding reception, it was _drunk._

The food was as tasty as could be expected, and the drinks flowed freely. 

But she’d spent _thousands_ of years drinking wine, and unfortunately the stuff they brought for the celebration was in no way enough to get her anything more than slightly buzzed. 

“If you keep drinking I fear you’ll wake with a killer headache in the morning,” Malfurion noted with a slight laugh. 

“This stuff couldn’t even knock a gnome on its ass,” Thalyssra grumbled. “Much less give me a hangover.”

“But it has given you a loose tongue,” Tyrande sighed irritably. “Be mindful of what you say, First Arcanist.”

Thalyssra stuck her tongue out at the alpha in response, before realizing she’d done such a childish thing and slowly setting her cup down, “Huh. Perhaps it _is_ affecting me a bit more than I realized.”

“Just be lucky the dancing isn’t mandatory,” Malfurion said. “I remember at our reception I had too much to drink and ended up tripping over Mia Greymane’s feet during a waltz.”

“You also spilled champagne on Ysera when she was nodding off at her table,” Tyrande recalled dryly. 

The druid looked a little abashed, “That was accidental, I assure you.”

“Accidental or not, that’s not a statement I ever thought I’d hear someone make,” Thalyssra pondered. “Not many could truthfully say they spilled champagne on an Aspect and got away with it.”

“Ysera was one of our oldest and dearest friends,” Tyrande said. “The worst she did was ruffle his hair in revenge.”

Malfurion chuckled, “Very true.”

Behind them, a sentinel approached, leaning down to whisper something in the Archdruid’s ear as he listened intently. 

With a nod, he dismissed her, rising to his feet seconds after. He bowed his head in their direction, his face mischievous, “If you ladies would excuse me. There’s an urgent matter that requires my attention.”

Thalyssra waved goodbye while Tyrande simply watched him saunter off with narrowed eyes, suspicion bright in her gaze. Taking her goblet, the alpha indulged in a long sip, “He’s up to something.”

“How can you tell?” Thalyssra asked, switching out her own drink for some fresh water. 

The Night-Warrior huffed, “He called us ‘ladies.’ He only ever does that when there’s something up his sleeve.”

“I see,” Thalyssra went back to picking at her food, having only eaten half of her plate so far. “I’ll keep that in mind then.”

She watched the others casually swaying on the dance floor- trying to pick apart their relationships based upon how easily they were able to move with each other. 

Anduin was dancing with a young woman with dark hair. She wore a dress, but didn’t look particularly comfortable in it. 

She could tell based upon the shyness in their eyes that there was an attraction there, although that same shyness also signaled that the attraction was still new and unexplored as of yet. 

Genn Greymane was dancing with his wife, and the arcanist could see genuine affection and love shining in both their gazes. They moved naturally together, a familiarity that came with years of marriage. 

There were others of course. Jaina Proudmoore danced with Vereesa Windrunner, and she could easily tell they were close friends based upon the body language. There was affection and joy in their movements, but romantic love was something she noticed was absent. 

If the rumors were true, then Vereesa was most likely still mourning her husband, who had been lost some years before. 

And then there was the issue of the Lord-Admiral’s complicated past relationships. 

Including the one she was rumored to have had with the Warchief prior to her death at the hands of Arthas Menethil. 

Thalyssra wasn’t sure how true _that_ was, but if there was one Alliance leader the other Horde rulers made sure to avoid bringing up in the Banshee Queen’s presence, it was definitely Jaina Proudmoore. 

Shandris was twirling around with Merithra, the oldest daughter of Ysera and the de facto leader of the Green Dragon flight following the former Aspect’s death. 

There were tendrils of attraction between them, and Thalyssra could see a causal connection between them. If the two _were_ involved, she suspected it was probably a ‘friends with benefits’ situation. 

Tyrande was silent beside her, her own sight gazing over the crowd, undoubtedly seeking out any sign of intruders hidden within the party. 

Thalyssra wrinkled her nose as the whiff of vanilla and lilac drifted into her nostrils. Whisperwind’s scent smelled a bit _stronger_ than usual, almost like she was in rut or something. 

But Thalyssra dismissed that thought. Given their bond, Tyrande would have undoubtedly sought out her company if she _had_ been in rut. More than likely, Thalyssra’s nose was probably just reacting to Tyrande’s perfume. It had been several days since she’d seen her, and the distance had likely exacted its toll. 

“Would you like to dance?” Tyrande’s voice drifted into her ears, startling Thalyssra as she broke out of her musing. “I’ve noticed you staring at the others on the floor with some longing for the last ten minutes.”

Thalyssra shrugged, although her face felt hot, “Felt odd to be at my own reception and not dance at least once.”

“Well then,” Tyrande rose to her feet, offering her new wife a hand. “Shall we?” 

Suddenly being very aware of all the eyes that turned towards them, Thalyssra took the priestess’s offered hand with a small smile, rising from her chair and allowing herself to be led to the dancefloor as the other pairs made room for them. 

They took their spot, one of her hands going to the alpha’s shoulder while the other adjusted to be held more comfortably in Tyrande’s still-raised hand. 

Whisperwind put her free hand on her waist, the two of them staring straight at each other as they waited for the music to start back up. 

The band began playing a slow waltz that was a favorite in Stormwind, and the pair drifted across the dancefloor in tune with the music, careful not to bump into any other dancers. 

Tyrande was expectedly leading, already knowing the steps given her time spent in the Alliance capital. 

Thalyssra followed her lead, adapting surprisingly well given how little she knew of modern day traditional dance routines. 

They breezed past Anduin, who was now dancing with a much more formidable Tess Greymane, while Lorna Crowley, the Gilnean heir’s fiancé, danced with her future father-in-law on the other side of the floor. 

Mia Greymane had retired to her table, where she was chatting with a boisterous Muradin Bronzebeard and slightly more reserved Moira Thaurissan. 

“Has this all been… satisfactory for you?” Tyrande asked, keeping her voice low. 

“Considering the circumstances?” Thalyssra smiled thinly, her eyes betraying her inner discomfort. “I suppose it has.”

“A leader must be able to sacrifice for the greater good of their people,” Tyrande’s eyebrow twitched. 

“I understand that better than anyone,” Thalyssra felt irritation bubbling in her stomach. “I wouldn’t have submitted to you if I didn’t.”

“Hmm,” Tyrande pulled her into a spin, before tugging the delta flush against her. “Do you regret it?”

“No,” Thalyssra responded without hesitation. “I did what I had to do for my people. The only thing I regret is letting Suramar fall into that position in the first place.”

“Spoken like a true politician, First Arcanist,” Tyrande said, her grip on the delta's hip going tight. 

“I’ve had years of practice, High-Priestess,” Thalyssra responded smoothly. 

The song came to an end, and the two broke apart, bowing slightly to each other as a sudden influx of dance requests began heading their way. 

Thalyssra was very glad to be whisked away by Valtrois, who appeared at her side in a shimmy, tugging her old friend away from the mob with a sharp cry of, “Me first!”

She looked back to see Shandris sweeping in to save Tyrande from her side of the requests, the Sentinel General demanding her mother’s attention for a dance and shooing the others away. 

They settled on opposite sides of the dance floor, and she grinned openly at Valtrois, who was looking over her with a keen eye, “Well, you don’t _look_ like they’ve been mistreating you? I imagine you’re kept under strict lock and key though?”

“That’s supposed to change after the wedding,” Thalyssra says, her grin still plastered on her face. “Now that my flight risk has been wiped from existence.”

“The _nerve_ of that alpha,” Valtrois sniffed. “Having the audacity to claim you in that manner- it’s _degrading.”_

“A necessary sacrifice for the good of Suramar,” Thalyssra sighed. “No matter my own grievances, our people are getting a _good_ deal from the Alliance. That’s all that matters.”

“ _You_ matter too, Thalyssra,” Valtrois frowned. “And gods forbid Tyrande treats you wrong. I’ll portal her ass straight over the Maelstrom, _so help me.”_

“I hardly think that’ll be necessary, Arcanist Valtrois,” Malfurion’s voice shook the two from their dance- the ladies both turning to face the beta as he waited patiently off to the side. 

“Archdruid,” Valtrois greets him sourly, curtseying sharply before excusing herself from the conversation. 

Thalyssra stepped off the dancefloor with a groan, watching as her oldest friend disappeared into the crowd, “Sorry about that. She’s just… rather protective of me.”

“You two are close,” Malfurion noted. “She _was_ on the list of those who were alerted early about the marriage after all.”

“I’ve known Valtrois for a long time,” Thalyssra admitted. “She was born just before the shield went up. We rose through the ranks quickly, and we’ve spent a lot of time in each other's company.”

“She’s an omega too,” Malfurion supplied. “I’m sure there was some kinship there as well.”

“Well yes,” Thalyssra nodded. “She was the first I told about having the delta-variation. She’s never betrayed my trust- nor would I betray hers.”

She spotted Stellagosa across the way, the blue dragon speaking softly to an irritated-looking Valtrois at the Dalaran table. 

Kalecgos and Modera seemed to be having a drinking contest besides them, the two both chugging from their own bottles of wine while an exasperated Khadgar looked on. 

Thalyssra watched the scene with some amusement, before her eyes drifted back to Valtrois, who had now pulled her new mate into a deep kiss. 

She felt a smidgen of relief to see that, happy to know that at least her closest companion had found happiness with her partner. 

“It’s good to know you have a friend you can trust,” Malfurion acknowledged. “Such connections are sorely needed in these times.”

“She’s not a friend,” Thalyssra felt fondness in her heart. “She’s family- in all ways save blood.”

There was a noise on the dancefloor, and the music sped up exponentially as Taelia Fordragon and Flynn Fairwind took center stage- the two were spinning each other around wildly while several others cheered and stomped their feet.

The chaos only grew as Lorna Crowley dragged Tess into the fray, the two couples now the center of attention as every gaze turned their way.

It was light-hearted and joyful, very much a distraction from the brutal conflict that still had the planet engulfed in war. 

“The band has been instructed to wind down the party after this song,” Malfurion explained, before offering his arm. “I am here to whisk you away before everyone mobs you for one last dance.”

Thalyssra felt a balloon of relief swell in her chest at that, the events of the day had weighed on her heavily, and she was more than ready to retire from the reception, “Please do. I’m quite ready to call it a night.”

Taking his arm, they exited the immediate reception area, the druid waving off several sentinels who stepped into line behind them. 

_If_ Thalyssra decided to run at this point (which was unlikely, she wasn't stupid), the beta would be strong enough to prevent her from succeeding. 

They strolled onto a path that she didn’t recognize, blinking in confusion when the delta realized they were heading in the opposite direction of the residence, “Isn’t the house back that way?” Thalyssra pointed behind her, “Where are we going?”

“Given that it is your wedding night,” the Shan’do inclined his head mischievously. “Tradition usually demands a honeymoon of sorts. We thought of sending Tyrande and you to Dalaran, but the Horde’s presence in the city nullified that option. The other Alliance capitals were an option, but too many rogues have been spotted within the borders lately.”

“I understand,” they were pretty far into the forest now, with elegant looking lanterns lighting the path every few dozen feet. “Are you not scared I’ll try to escape?”

“The forest is filled with patrols,” Malfurion raised an eyebrow at her. “Besides, if you were going to try to escape, you would have done it _before_ the bond was made legally binding.”

“You got me there,” the delta blinked as a small wooden building came into view, looking a bit more put together than the tents and hutches she’d seen scattered throughout the main settlement. “What is this place?”

“It _was_ an outpost during the Third War,” Malfurion recalled. “Back when Archimonde marched on Nordrassil. Several of the guardians refitted it some years ago, renting it out to vacationers to help pay for provisions.” 

“And now it’s been rented for my ‘honeymoon’ then?” Thalyssra asked, inspecting the building with an appraising eye. 

“The High-King and I thought it’d be good for you two to have an official honeymoon beyond Tyrande just camping out in your room for a night,” Malfurion shrugged. “And I thought you might appreciate the chance to get out, even if it is just an hour’s walk away.”

“It’s lovely,” Thalyssra smiled. “Thank you, Malfurion. Your kindness has been greatly appreciated today.”

“It’s no matter,” the druid walked her to the door, handing her a key as he stepped back to give her room. “There’s some hot springs in the back. It’s walled off for privacy and warded, so you won’t have to worry about someone seeing anything they’re not supposed to.”

“That sounds lovely,” Thalyssra nearly cried at the thought of a nice soak in a hot spring. Her muscles desperately needed some warmth and relaxation right about now. “When should I expect Tyrande?” 

“Probably an hour or so,” Malfurion replied. “She’ll be saying farewell to the other leaders with Shandris right now. Our daughter will inform her off the surprise after that's done.”

Thalyssra nodded, “And my things?”

“There’s provisions inside,” he answered. “Including clothes, food, toiletries, and other entertainment. It’s booked for three nights. There should be more than enough in there. If not, there’s a small settlement about fifteen minutes east.”

“Very well,” Thalyssra bowed her head. “Thank you for the assistance.”

Malfurion bowed his head in farewell, stepping back onto the path towards the main settlement, “I hope everything is to your liking, First Arcanist.” He paused for a moment, hesitance crossing his face, “And if I may be so bold- I know Tyrande can be _intimidating_ at times, especially with the power of the Night-Warrior now within her. She will not hurt you, but that does not mean her want of control does not become overwhelming at times. Do not be afraid to speak up when that happens. She may not like it, but your boundaries must be respected too if the bond has any hope of staying healthy.”

Thalyssra felt her throat go dry, nodding her head in understanding as the druid smiled thinly and began making his way back down the path. 

She watched him leave, his figure gradually growing smaller as the distance increased, before the delta turned to the door and unlocked the latch.

The inside was cozy, with plush fur rugs keeping the wooden floors warm, and a roaring fireplace (no doubt magical) already burning in the center. 

There was a small kitchen, with a small bathroom, fit with only a toilet and sink, situated off to the side. 

The entire area was open to the bedroom, with only a fabric curtain covering the archway for privacy. Thalyssra pulled it aside to see a grand mattress set upon a platform only two feet off the ground. There was another hearth, this one much smaller, set over by the window, warming the room to a toasty temperature. 

To her delight, the hot spring was situated right outside, with giant stone walls encasing the back and protecting the privacy of whoever was staying there at the moment. 

She noticed the bed had four posts, with impressive metalwork connecting them. Cords of silken rope decorated the top, and a sheer white sheet was cast over the posts, creating a canopy that encased most of the bed. 

It was definitely decked out for a honeymoon, although the style was more reminiscent of everyday life in Suramar, Thalyssra recognized that this was probably a bit much by Night Elf standards. 

She sank into an armchair by the bed, removing her shoes with a relieved sigh, and tossing them over to a corner of the room. 

For several long moments, Thalyssra sat there, staring at the wall as she rubbed her aching feet absent mindedly. She would have preferred to go barefoot, but the cold temperatures of Hyjal’s night had left her toes looking far bluer than was strictly healthy. 

The sound of the front door opening drew her attention. Lilac and vanilla drifted into the air, and the arcanist knew her wife had arrived. 

“Thalyssra?”

“In here!” She replied, watching as the alpha walked quickly into the room, her scent rife with both arousal and desire. 

Thalyssra took one sniff of the air and realized why Tyrande’s scent seemed to be off earlier. She felt a slight thrill thrum through her omega brain, recalling that her earlier suspicions were correct, “You’re in _rut.”_

Tyrande stared at her, her face stoic save for a flash of hunger in her eyes. She sat down on the edge of the bed, swatting the sheer canopy away, and began removing her various armor pieces from her dress. 

She didn’t respond, but given the heavy pheromones slinking through the air, she didn’t have to. 

Although the knowledge helped her to understand _why_ Tyrande had been acting off, it also set every nerve she had on fire with slight fear. 

An alpha in rut was unpredictable and full of energy. They could go days without sleeping if it meant they’d be able to spend every waking minute fucking whoever triggered it. 

Their stamina damn near tripled due to an influx of hormones in their bloodstream, and aggression skyrocketed to insane levels in order to prove their strength to whatever mate was desired. 

Nowadays, potions and different types of medications helped to alleviate most symptoms, but ruts induced by mating bonds being formed were hard to control.

And given the timing, Thalyssra was pretty sure that was probably what triggered the rut that currently trapped Tyrande in its inescapable grip. 

The delta stood up, undoing the fastenings of her gown before letting it fall down her body carefully. 

She felt Tyrande’s gaze latch onto her, and tried to ignore the growing wetness building between her legs. 

The alpha’s _heavenly_ scent had pushed all other’s out of the room, filling Thalyssra with flames of desire as her body reacted to how _desperately_ she could tell Tyrande wanted her. 

And yet, the alpha still did not make a move. 

No matter the emotional tension between them, Thalyssra took no joy in watching her new mate suffer through something that was obviously painful, “Are you going to bed me tonight, or were you planning on torturing yourself instead?”

“Goddess save me,” Tyrande groaned and stood up, slipping out of her own dress after finally getting all the armor pieces removed. “Stars above, I want you. This rut feels much _stronger_ than the few others I’ve had. I can't make it go away.”

“You marked me less than two weeks ago,” Thalyssra unhooked her bra, opening a drawer on a small dresser and searching for a night-shirt to switch into. “You’ve been mated to a beta for most of your life. I’m guessing you’ve never tasted an omega’s blood on your teeth before- of course your ruts would be more intense now that you’re bonded with one.”

She felt a warm body press up behind her, with hot lips trailing over her neck, mouthing at the claiming mark left there.

Tyrande’s voice was husky, “Do you think you can handle me?”

One hand fondled with a breast, while the other traveled lower, rubbing over the fabric of Thalyssra’s underwear and stimulating her already sensitive core.

The arcanist couldn’t help the shiver that traveled straight to her hardening clit, and slammed the drawer shut with more force than necessary, “I’ve already proven I can take your knot- what do you think?” 

Tyrande moaned in response, grinding her sizable erection against Thalyssra’s back side as her hand delved into her underwear, pushing her fingers through the warm slick of her mate’s core.

She braced her hands against the dresser, pushing her hips back against Tyrande’s and spreading her legs as she leaned forward. 

“You’re presenting for me,” Tyrande murmured, releasing the arcanist’s breast and leaning forward to press her face into the skin between her shoulder blades. 

The alpha took a shuddering, appreciative breath, before inhaling deeply as she continued grinding their bodies together, desperate for some undoubtedly much needed relief. 

Thalyssra knew in this instance she had the advantage. For all her years, Tyrande was unused to ruts being a frequent thing- meaning she had little control over her body while in the throes of her alpha-unique cycle. 

The delta had been with other alphas in rut before, meaning she knew exactly what to do when it came to quickly bringing them the maximum amount of pleasure. 

With gentle yet firm hands, she turned to face the Night-Warrior, pressing their lips together as she pushed against Tyrande’s chest, walking the alpha backwards and easing her into sitting on the edge of the bed. 

“Pray tell, _exactly_ , what you think you are doing?” Tyrande growled lightly, torn between irritation at being interrupted and curiosity for whatever the delta had in mind. 

“Don’t get snippy at me,” Thalyssra grabbed hold of the priestess’s underwear, pulling it down as Tyrande lifted her hips to help her efforts proceed. “This isn’t the first time I’ve been with an alpha in rut- _stop growling at me that was a long time ago-”_ The priestess shut her mouth tensely, the possessive growl vibrating in her chest dying down as Thalyssra wrapped her cock firmly in one hand. 

The arcanist sighed exhaustively, “I’m trying to help you Tyrande. Would you rather I stop?”

Right now, stopping was the _last thing_ the Night-Warrior wanted, and so she went silent, bowing her head in a nonverbal apology. 

Thalyssra smiled lightly, leaning forward to flick her tongue against the head of her alpha’s length. 

Tyrande’s cock jolted in response, a small moan escaping her throat. 

Feeling confident, Thalyssra took the hard member into her mouth, stroking the bottom half that didn’t fit with one hand, while the other hand went below the base of the shaft, pressing testily against the tight entrance of the alpha’s vaginal opening. 

Unlike male alphas, the females of the dynamic still had all the necessary parts needed to carry a child. Although the chance of them conceiving was rare, it _could_ happen with the right fertility treatment and care. 

Based on how the High-Priestess’s body was reacting, Thalyssra suspected that she might have been taking such treatments recently within the last few years, but she wasn’t going to voice that suspicion. 

Not when her mate had a more pressing matter that needed her attention. 

Tyrande was _wet,_ and seemed to be reacting well to the stimulation. She went stiff when Thalyssra carefully pressed two fingers inside her, but didn’t tell her to stop or jolt away. 

The delta waited a moment, gently scissoring her digits to ease the tightness, before curling her fingers in a ‘come-hither’ motion, pressing successfully against a swollen, rough patch of skin within the alpha’s front inner wall. 

Suddenly, Tyrande’s hands were gripping her wife’s hair tightly as her breath hitched with wanton pleasure. 

Now that she could easily stimulate the priestess’s g-spot, Thalyssra focused her attention on the _longer_ issue at hand, bobbing her head in time with her fingers’ movements as she worked more and more of her wife’s throbbing length into her mouth. 

Forcing her throat to relax made it easier, and soon Thalyssra was able to take it completely. 

And Tyrande was absolutely _loving_ it. 

The alpha moved her hips as best she could in time with her mate’s actions, pulling Thalyssra’s head up and down- guiding the delta’s movements as her orgasm began to build. 

Thalyssra let her, surrendering to the alpha’s desires as she sucked, stroked, and fingered her wife closer and closer to the sweet bliss of release. 

She let her tongue brush over the tip every time Tyrande pulled her head up, stroking the exposed shaft with a firm grip for several seconds, before she let her jaw relax as her head was pushed back down.

After a few minutes, the arcanist felt the priestess’s inner walls begin to pulsate, her g-spot seemed to swell, and her abdomen went tight as her movements became more wild and uncontrolled. 

Thalyssra only had a moment to prepare herself when she felt the first taste of Tyrande’s cum splash into her mouth, followed by more as her walls clenched _tight_ around the nightborne’s fingers. 

Her knot only partially inflated due to the difference in pressure when compared to vaginal intercourse, but that didn’t mean the alpha’s orgasm was any less satisfying.

Dutifully, the delta swallowed as much as she could, keeping her eyes closed as she heard Tyrande moan lowly with satisfaction above her. 

The hiss of a pleasured, _“Yes!”_ was the only word spoken, but Thalyssra knew she’d done her job well when she felt the tight grip of Tyrande’s fingers turn soothing- the alpha gently running them through her wife’s white hair as she came down from the high of an _intense_ orgasm.

Pulling her mouth back from the alpha’s erection with a wet pop, Thalyssra leaned forward to press a kiss to her abs, trailing her lips over the indentations between each muscle. 

Eventually, she felt herself being tugged upwards, her mouth now aimed at the sensitive area of Tyrande’s breasts. 

The alpha hummed quietly, enjoying the attention as Thalyssra rolled her tongue around a pert nipple. She latched her mouth around the nub, sucking gently before being guided to the other breast to repeat her previous actions. 

After another minute or so, she was tugged upwards again, her lips captured in a dominant kiss as the alpha flipped their position and pressed Thalyssra into the bed. 

Tyrande was already fully naked, while Thalyssra was left in the white underwear and stockings she’d worn underneath her dress.

The alpha made quick work of the delta’s underwear, ripping them clean off with a show of strength while leaving the stockings alone. 

She pulled back at the feeling of something metal pressed against her chest, noticing a necklace resting above Thalyssra’s heart that she only glimpsed briefly before. 

“Where did you get that?” 

“Oh,” Thalyssra reached up and grabbed the white-gold pendant, having forgotten to remove it earlier. “Malfurion gave it to me before the ceremony. He said it was meant to be a gift for the old delta courting traditions.”

“I see,” Tyrande took the pendant, careful not to tug on the chain, and pressed a kiss to the warm metal. She let the piece fall back onto Thalyssra’s chest, resting in the valley of her breasts, “I like it. Leave it on.”

Thalyssra nodded, biting down a gasp as two fingers suddenly delved into her wet folds, prodding at her entrance and pushing inside as Tyrande tested the resistance of her walls. 

“Getting straight to the point, aren’t you?” Her voice shook, her hips grinding down against the alpha’s hand. 

“I have little room for patience right now,” Tyrande replies curtly, removing her hand once she was sure of the arcanist’s preparedness. “Does that bother you?”

“No,” Thalyssra says, squirming as she feels the head of her alpha’s cock pushing into her entrance. 

“Good,” Tyrande shifted her hips forward, sliding her length into the delta’s tight walls.

Thalyssra went still, moaning lightly as she willed her body to relax. 

This was the first time they’d had sex since her heat, and her body wasn’t flooded with the same hormones that made it so easy last time. 

Tyrande’s pheromones, especially the ones amplified by rut, certainly stimulated the effects, but the difference was still noticeable. The priestess leaned forward, pressing their bodies together as she gradually eased herself all the way into her wife’s warmth. She kissed Thalyssra, her aura thrumming with restrained power, before trailing her lips down the side of her face, up her neck, and to the long shell of her ear. 

“Ready?” The Night-Warrior’s voice tickled her ear, causing it to twitch lightly at the warm breath. 

Thalyssra wiggled her hips. She felt impossibly full with Tyrande inside her, and the smell of her rut was clogging her mind, filling her thoughts with dirty ideas of all the ways she could be of _use_ to her alpha. She blinked the haze away, wrapping her arms around the priestess’s back, “I’m ready.”

Tyrande groaned in response, moving her hips with slow thrusts as she savored the tight squeeze around her most sensitive body part. 

She buried her face in Thalyssra’s neck, mouthing at the mating mark with nipping bites that sent bolts of pleasure straight to the delta’s core. 

The First Arcanist couldn’t move in her position, couldn’t try and meet the slow thrusts. Tyrande had her pinned- completely at the mercy for whatever the Night-Warrior desired. 

After a minute of the slow thoughtful love-making, the urge to rut apparently became too much to ignore for Elune’s chosen priestess. She quickly started moving roughly, more and more focused on gaining her own pleasure rather than the nightborne's beneath her. 

It was a stark difference from their romp in Suramar. But then again, Thalyssra had been the one in need last time. Now, it was evidently Tyrande’s turn. 

Had Thalyssra not done her little oral trick, she imagined the alpha probably would not have lasted longer than a minute with how backed up she must have been. 

But the relief she granted had eased some of the pressure, and now Tyrande was able to focus on the climb to the top rather than just reaching the peak. 

It also meant that Thalyssra was getting absolutely railed too. 

She adjusted quickly, becoming even wetter as her arousal grew. The sound of their bodies meeting was loud and vulgar, the squelching sound of her core taking her alpha’s cock echoed in the open room, and the sharp smack of their hips smashing against each other only grew louder as Tyrande adjusted her position- leaning back on her knees, hooking her arms underneath Thalyssra’s legs, and lifting the Shal’dorei’s hips clean off the bed. 

She pulled their hips together with every thrust, striking deep within her mate as the delta mewled and moaned at the stimulation her g-spot received with the new position. 

_“Gods, Tyrande!”_ Thalyssra wasn’t sure what to do with her hands, fisting one into the sheets while she reached down and grabbed onto one of the alpha’s thighs. _“Ah yes! Right there!”_

A squeal suddenly tore from her throat when she was yanked upwards, Tyrande’s cock still throbbing within her as she suddenly found herself sitting on the alpha’s lap, face-to-face with her wife on a more equal level than before. 

Tyrande wrapped her arms around Thalyssra’s waist, using her strength and leverage to continue thrusting her hips upwards as the arcanist adjusted herself to the position.

They were kissing again, whimpers tearing out of Thalyssra’s mouth as she felt a large knot at the base of her mate’s shaft pressing insistently against her opening. 

Given her position, she was able to lift her hips up and down in tandem with her partner’s thrusts, giving her the needed velocity to allow the knot to slip past her tight entrance in one smooth movement. 

Tyrande growled appreciatively, holding Thalyssra’s body in place as the delta threw her head back in ecstasy. 

Her inner walls clamped down around the alpha’s knot as her orgasm reared its head, triggering Tyrande’s own release as she moaned something appreciatively in Darnassian against Thalyssra’s lips. 

She felt a rush of warmth inside her, and suddenly felt pressure pushing against her cervix. 

Given that she was _not_ in heat, being filled so intimately with her mate’s seed was somewhat uncomfortable, and she whimpered in distress when the position started to become too much to comfortably stay in. 

Tyrande murmured an apology, carefully lowering them back onto the bed while being mindful of the fact that they were still tied together by her knot. 

Thalyssra settled on her back, her chest heaving as she tried to calm her exhausted lungs. 

Whisperwind took advantage of the position to lean down and give her breasts some attention, lavishing the dark nipples greedily with her tongue.

Thalyssra gasped at the additional stimulation, baring the unmarked side of her neck when Tyrande kissed back up her chest and shoulders- sucking at the smooth skin and leaving a handful of bruising love marks on the otherwise pristine surface. 

Finally, she brought their lips together, a long drawn out kiss developing between them as the high of their subsequent orgasms gradually wore off. 

When they broke apart, Tyrande leaned back and their gazes met. 

For a moment, there was an uneasy silence. Whisperwind’s eyes were dark, with the blue rings of her iris’s shining ominously in the dim light. There was no affection in that gaze, only hunger, lust, and a smug gleam of satisfaction. 

Leaning down, Tyrande brushed her lips against Thalyssra’s ear once more, her hoarse voice sounding almost sinister, _“I am going to_ **_ruin_ ** _you tonight, First Arcanist.”_

Thalyssra swallowed uneasily, she couldn’t see Tyrande’s face, but her weight laying on top of her suddenly felt suffocating. 

There were several different ways to take that sentence. She sensed two that were plausible- one good and one that was... _not_ so good. 

Beating down her fear, she turned and pressed a careful kiss to Tyrande’s temple, her own voice relatively soft next to the crackling of the enchanted fireplace, “I am at _your_ mercy, High Priestess. _”_

She wasn’t sure if the low chuckle she got in return from Tyrande was good or bad, but Thalyssra didn’t have much time to think about it. The alpha’s knot would deflate much sooner than usual due to being in rut, and undoubtedly Whisperwind planned on putting the arcanist through her paces until the early hours of the morning. 

Turning her head away, Thalyssra gazed at the window through the sheer canopy of the bed. 

In the distance, looming high above the treetops, the moon was once more lost in a complete eclipse. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Anya could tell the Dark Lady was having a shit fucking day, and she didn’t envy Bloodhoof the position he was in. 

After all, what person possibly wanted to be in the position of having to inform the Warchief that the chance of the Horde recovering their stolen ally had just become damn near astronomically impossible?

The sound of the table cracking underneath the strength of Sylvanas’s grip had all the other leaders looking wary, with Lor’Themar in particular appearing like he desperately needed a drink. 

“A _marriage!?”_ The Warchief’s glowing red eyes seemed to emanate with rage, her voice losing the normal smug calm she usually kept. “You’re telling me they bound Suramar to the Alliance by _marriage!?”_

“Yes Warchief,” Baine sounded tired. “I received the information courtesy of the Tauren archdruids in Hyjal. They had the ceremony yesterday. Our spies report Suramar’s population has mostly accepted the match, given that the First Arcanist is treated well while she is away from the city.”

“Oh, so _now_ our spies decide to do their job!” Sylvanas spat, anger broiling in her veins. Too many of her plans counted on keeping Suramar tied to the Horde, with their loyalty now belonging to the Alliance, it set her planning back _at least_ a year, “Are they keeping her in Hyjal!?”

“So it would seem, Dark Lady,” Nathanos pointed out the area on the map. “Most of the kaldorei population displaced by Teldrassil’s loss have settled in the recovered territory of the regrowth. According to our intel, Tyrande and Malfurion have settled there as well, and the First Arcanist is believed to be kept close to either one at all times.”

“Are ya’ sure ya’ can’t take advantage of that?” Gallywix picked at his long nails, “Surely ol’ Stormrage must be feeling some type of way ‘bout _his_ mate claiming someone else.”

“The Archdruid is reported to harbor no ill will towards the situation,” Baine shook his head. “They tell me he actually seems to get along famously with Thalyssra.”

“Night Elves are notoriously free-spirited with relationships,” Lor’Themar shrugged. “It’s not a surprise to see Whisperwind and Stormrage are the same way.”

“THIS ISN’T JUST A LITTLE FLING WITH SOME OMEGA THEY PROCURED FROM THE TOWN BROTHEL!” Sylvanas screeched, her temper flaring dangerously as shadows momentarily broke out from her body. “The High-Priestess of Elune- the Night-Warrior- the _senior leader of the Kaldorei_ has **claimed** the First Arcanist of Suramar- the defacto ruler of the Nightborne!” 

The Warchief rubbed at her temples irritably, “Just the claim on Thalyssra’s neck would be enough to give Tyrande significant leverage over the city by Suramarian standards, but the _marriage_ half of it makes it legal in **all** nations of _both_ the Horde **and** the Alliance!”

“This is a time of war, Dark Lady,” Anya materialized from behind the group, speaking up for the first time since the leaders gathered. “There is precedent for such matches to be dissolved if the argument can be made that it was done under duress.” 

“She _was_ in heat,” Sylvanas muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I never should have given her leave to return to Suramar.”

“She’s a delta,” Rokhan was still mystified at that, since his race was also one that lost all delta-variations due to the Sundering. “There’s no _way_ they could be knowing that before.”

“It doesn’t matter what the Alliance did or did not know,” Sylvanas snapped. “Horde intelligence somehow _missed_ that Proudmoore was amassing _another_ invasion fleet in Kul Tiras, and they _also_ missed the fact that Feathermoon simultaneously moved most of the Darnassian forces out of Darkshore in _one night._ These are signs that we could not afford to ignore, and it’s now cost us an ally that rivaled _Dalaran_ in magical ability!”

Gallywix snorted, “I doubt it’s that ba-”

Sylvanas whirled on him, her eyes burning hot in the dim light of the war room. She glared at him imperiously, anger burning in her gaze. With a sharp growl, she spoke, _“Baine!”_

The Tauren jolted, definitely not wanting to be her next target, “Yes, Warchief?”

_“ Who_ do you think was the strongest mage in the Horde a month ago?”

Baine felt his stomach drop, “It was Thalyssra, Warchief.”

“And on Azerothian standards? How strong do you think she is in comparison to the others?”

“I can think of only three who could challenge her, Warchief,” Baine answered carefully. 

“ _Exactly,”_ Sylvanas hissed. “Of all the mages on Azeroth, Thalyssra is _easily_ within the top five most powerful. The others belong to either the Kirin Tor _or the Alliance!_ Suramar was supposed to be our deterrent against them!”

Sylvanas slammed her hand back down on the table, startling every person in the room at the intensity, “And _now,_ Suramar belongs to the _enemy,_ because our so called ‘top-tier’ spy network missed signs that even a **novice** would have noticed!”

“We can still get Suramar back,” Nathanos insisted. “Our champions could recapture the First Arcanist. We’d only need to keep her away from Alliance hands long enough for the bond to fade.”

“That could take _years_ Nathanos!” Sylvanas drummed her fingers against the table angrily, “And do you _really_ think the Alliance will be dumb enough to leave the First Arcanist vulnerable at such a critical stage of their treaty!? Whisperwind herself is hardly likely to leave Thalyssra without guard. The mistakes they made at Teldrassil are still fresh in their minds.” She frowned, “We cannot count on them making them _again.”_

“It doesn’t hurt to _try,”_ Nathanos insisted. “We have rogues capable of getting into Hyjal undetected. Perhaps we can have them make contact with the First Arcanist? Let them find out whether a recovery is something she will cooperate with.”

“The chances of her cooperating are slim if she’s marked,” Sylvanas felt a light bulb go off on her head. “But perhaps we can even the odds with a couple familiar faces.” 

She turned to Lor’Themar, “If I asked you to summon a few of your champions, _discreetly,_ can you ensure the Alliance does not find out?”

“Most certainly, Warchief.”

“Good,” Sylvanas stared down at the map once more, a plan coming together in her mind. “The rest of you are dismissed.” She turned, giving Nathanos a look, “ _All_ of you.”

He didn’t look happy about that, but nonetheless obeyed her command- following the other Horde leaders out of the room. 

Lor’Themar cleared his throat, “Which champions should I send for?”

“After Elisande’s hold was broken, there were several of your champions who stayed behind to help Thalyssra cement Suramar’s new position, were there not?” 

“Yes,” the old beta sighed tiredly. “Several of the younger champions, the ones still too new to fight directly on the warfronts, decided to stay behind in Suramar and assist the First Arcanist. She was quite fond of them if I recall.”

Sylvanas nodded, “Send for them. I want them here in two days- no less.”

Lor’Themar bowed his head, “It will be done.”

With that he took his leave, and Sylvanas stared down at the map with a twisted expression. 

In all, it would have been better if the Alliance just razed Suramar to the ground. At least then she’d be able to get some _use_ out of all the lost souls. 

Instead they committed a political play that threatened to completely upend the balance of power between the Horde and Alliance. 

And more importantly, they threatened her plans. 

Sylvanas had come too far to let this screw up ruin years of planning. No matter Thalyssra’s previous loyalty, if the Banshee couldn’t find a way to play this new development to her benefit, then the First Arcanist would have to be dealt with. 

The undead beta winced, reaching up to her neck and rubbing at the tender skin as her old mating mark ached with phantom pain. 

It had been bothering her since the news of the attack against Zandalar first reached her ears. She could care less about the old king’s demise, but the knowledge of who was the mastermind behind it, _the Lord-Admiral of Kul Tiras,_ now that was enough to send her nerves into overdrive.

And she hated it- she _hated_ her. Sylvanas swore that mage would _never_ hold power over her again. 

She could not falter now- she’d come too far to let that happen. 

When this was all over, her name would be tarnished, her legacy ruined. People would spit at the thought of her, and one day they’d burn effigies in celebration of her demise. 

But the end result would be worth it.

Whatever it took- whatever sacrifice necessary- she’d set them _all_ free. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! I'm so glad you've decided to give my story a chance!   
> I'll have the next chapter up some time within the next two weeks. Probably around Thanksgiving at the latest.   
> Feel free to leave a comment! I love to read your thoughts and reactions.


	3. Growing Pains

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for tuning in everyone, I really appreciate it. This chapter isn't as long, and most will probably be a bit bigger than this one. I hit all the points I wanted to within this word count, so I didn't see any reason to hold back from posting.  
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy. As always, I don't own Warcraft.

Of all the things to begin her day, Thalyssra had to admit that a nice breakfast was always the way to go. 

And it was made even more sweet by the fact that she also got cooking lessons out of it too. 

“As nice as that’s cooking, you might want to switch the boar meat out now,” Malfurion held back his laughter. “It’s nearly burnt.”

“I know, I know,” Thalyssra glared down at the frying pan, her fingers feeling raw from the popping oil. “It’s the oil. Every time I get within six inches of the pan, it gets me.”

“I suppose my hands are a bit more resistant given how weathered they are,” Malfurion reached over and grabbed the pan, pulling it from the lit burner and moving another filled with shredded potatoes into its place. “You can try a spell to coat your hand. Tyrande usually does that when the oil’s boiling.”

“I’ll keep the suggestion in mind,” Thalyssra knew enough to safely fry the potato shreds without burning herself, pushing the food around the hot pan with a spatula. “Any news on the wayward Night-Warrior?”

“She’ll be staying at the warfront for another few days,” Malfurion rubbed at his temple. “The Horde pushed back into Darkshore.”

“Is Shandris with her?” Thalyssra hadn’t seen the General since the wedding, some three weeks ago. 

“Shandris is in Boralus with Wyrmbane and the Lord-Admiral,” the druid pulled a wine and water jug from one of the enchanted cooling cabinets. “They’re currently tracking the Horde’s fleet, as well as investigating some unusual occurrences within Kul Tiras.”

“How unusual?” Thalyssra switched off the burner, content to see that the potatoes were done. 

“There’s been whispers of Old God activity,” Malfurion didn’t look nor sound happy to admit it. “Given the severity of such a threat, the young Lion saw it necessary to find out whether or not there’s truth to these whispers.”

“Another Old God rearing its head is the last thing Azeroth needs right now,” Thalyssra grimaced. “Especially if the rumors about the Naga are true.”

“That’s a matter to worry about later,” the beta grabbed two plates. “Right now, focus must be kept on the more immediate conflict.”

Thalyssra agreed, but didn’t dare respond. Not with how odd it felt to be in this position right now. About six weeks ago, they were on opposite sides of said conflict, and now they were chatting in the kitchen over breakfast like a couple of old friends. 

Of course, there was the whole _invasion of Suramar and subsequent political marriage_ that played a large part in making this happen, but it was still _weird._

She knew there was probably more going on than just what Malfurion told her, but given her shaky status, most information she was given was strictly regulated to prevent the chance of an intel breach. 

After spending four days and three nights with Tyrande for their ‘honeymoon,’ they’d returned to normality and the pressing issues of the war immediately were upon them. 

Given how much sex they’d had over the course of their little vacation, Tyrande’s rut passed quickly, and she had promptly returned to the active warfronts. 

At first Malfurion had joined her, and the two had been gone for a solid week, leaving Thalyssra with only the sentinels and druids that had been assigned to guard her. 

She saw a lot of Valtrois and Stellagosa during that week, although for now their meetings had to be monitored. Mostly they talked of how Suramar and her people were adjusting, how the interim council was doing, and how they personally were faring with the recent events. 

Valtrois, despite her love for her city, had decided to stay with Stellagosa in Dalaran until the provisional period ended. She didn’t like being kept under watch, and preferred the freedom that the neutral city provided. 

Of course, she accepted her new status as an Alliance citizen, but the cost of that distinction had left a sour taste in Valtrois’s mouth. 

After a while, the demands of leading a nation trying to get back on its feet urged Malfurion to return to Hyjal, especially since Maiev and her wardens agreed to stay in Darkshore with Tyrande to ‘ensure no harm came to the High-Priestess.’

It didn’t matter how they worded it- Thalyssra knew it was code for ‘keeping the Night-Warrior from going on a bloody rampage.’

She snapped out of her musings when Malfurion handed her a full plate, taking it thankfully as she went and sat at the small four person table they had set up in the kitchen area. 

“You’ve gone quiet,” Malfurion observed, sitting down across from her. 

“Apologies,” Thalyssra took a bite of the scrambled eggs first, savoring the freshly cooked taste. “I was just thinking…” She chuckled lightly, “...about everything that’s led up to this breakfast.”

“Ah,” the beta cocked his head. “That must be quite the amount of events to ponder.”

“That’s one way to put it,” The delta must have been hungrier than she thought, given how fast she began tearing into her food. “Never thought I’d end up like this.”

“Neither did I,” Malfurion’s eyes twinkled. “Given the original plans, discovering your truth certainly threw us all into disarray.” He thought back to that night, recalling how even Elune had seemingly reacted, “Even the goddess intervened, I remember we all looked up and saw the White Lady in a half-eclipse, something that _rarely_ happens.”

“I felt when that happened,” Thalyssra admits, something hard forming in her stomach. “I’m no priestess, but given the sacred nature that my kind holds with Elune, I’ve _sometimes_ been able to sense her in a way.”

“Could you sense her when the city was sealed off?” Malfurion asked, curiosity thrumming in his mind. 

“Not really,” Thalyssra recalled. “Maybe once or twice. The shield was _strong._ I can’t remember a single time either sunlight or moonlight broke through it. Many lost faith in the goddess, turning instead to the growing power of the Nightwell. Some of the more addicted worshiped it- like it was a god or something.”

“But you didn’t?”

“Well, I didn’t _worship_ it,” Thalyssra sighed. “But I was definitely too dependent on it.” She cut into the boar meat, “But I didn’t forget about Elune either. I was never very spiritual, but the goddess did offer me comfort when I needed it.”

“Through prayer?” Malfurion inquired. 

“Sometimes,” Thalyssra chewed on her lip. “It was actually… more personal, or life-changing I suppose.”

“How so?” The druid suddenly looked abashed, “I mean, if you don’t mind me asking, that is.”

“Well, you and Tyrande will probably find out eventually anyway. It’s not a secret, I just don’t speak of it very often.” Thalyssra thought back far, even prior to the Sundering- prior to even the War of the Ancients. “For most of my youth, my family thought I was a beta. My father was a delta-variation omega like me, and my mother was an alpha.” She pursed her lips, “However, when I was studying the ways of the arcane, during the early years of my adulthood, I abruptly presented late.” 

“That’s not uncommon,” Malfurion said, listening intently.

“It’s not,” Thalyssra agreed. “But I _was_ living away from home, and suddenly having to deal with my first heat without access to the suppressants I needed left me in a bit of a predicament.” She picked at the last pieces of food on her plate, “I had a friend of sorts. We had an _agreement,_ per say, regarding physical matters. He helped me through my first heat. At the time, no one around me was mated, so I didn’t _know_ I was a delta. The anti-conception potion I took wasn’t strong enough to deal with my biology, and two months later I ended up discovering I was pregnant.”   
Malfurion’s jaw dropped, “Pregnant!?”

Thalyssra nodded, a grim smile on her face, “Obviously, I was in no position to care for a child, and my friend was much the same. After discussing it over, we went to the Temple of Elune, asking the priestesses for help, and they offered to arrange an adoption out to a well-deserving family.”

“Did you-” He coughed, “...go through with it?”

“I did,” Thalyssra finished her plate, leaning back in her chair as she thought of what happened. “I never told my parents. They were strictly old-fashioned and never would have approved. Therefore, I went to the Temple for all my pregnancy related needs, and they made sure I had top care. They’re the ones who identified that I had the delta-variation- I remember the head priestess in charge there nearly choked the moment she laid eyes on me. She told me Elune’s blessing was mine to keep, and that they’d help however they could.”

“And what of the adoption?”

“I met with the couple only a few times- an alpha man and a beta woman from a town called Ara-Hinam,” Thalyssra smiled upon remembrance. “They were very kind and excited to be parents. They were older- retired soldiers from the Moon Guard if I recall correctly, but injuries prevented them from having any children of their own. The father was an excellent hunter though, I remember he showed me his skill with the bow. I’d never seen archers up close before,” She laughed. “It was impressive.”

“I’m sure it was,” Malfurion thought about the women in his family, and their own legendary skills with a bow. “What happened after?”

“I gave birth shortly before I graduated,” Thalyssra rounded out her story, setting her utensils down on the now empty plate. “A healthy baby girl with a good pair of lungs in her.” Thalyssra closed her eyes, thinking back on the image of the baby. “She had a full head of dark blue hair and light blue eyes. She looked nothing like me, and the couple luckily enough actually had similar features.” Thalyssra smiled sadly, “I remember taking that as a sign that I was doing the right thing. I said a prayer of good health and long life for her, wished the new family all the best, and that was that.”

“Do you regret it?” Malfurion asked gently, his face a picture of concern. 

Thalyssra swallowed uneasily, “I try not to think of it, but sometimes I wonder if they, if _she,_ survived. I heard the town had been attacked by fel demons during the early years of the Legion’s first invasion, but never found word of survivors.”

“But no, I suppose I don’t regret it,” Thalyssra admits. “I never could have given the girl the kind of attention a child needed at the time. That couple passed every test I could think of on their suitability. I only wish it didn’t have to end in such…” She exhaled shakily, “In such _sorrow.”_

Malfurion thought back, “I might be mistaken, but I’m sure there might have been survivors of Ara-Hinam. I recall the name. During the war, we met a lot of refugees over the years.” He smiled fondly, “In fact, that’s how Shandris came into our lives. Tyrande found her in the camp, a skinny spiteful teen with enough fighting spirit to take on the whole Legion.”

Thalyssra snorted at the thought, “Given what I’ve seen of her abilities, I can believe that.” She stood up, “You must be proud of her.”

“I am,” Malfurion looked over at a window, staring at a blooming _alor’el_ nestled in a growing shelf beneath it- one of the few possessions they’d saved from their previous residence on Teldrassil. “Very much so.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The following days after the conversation with Malfurion go by quickly for Thalyssra, and she spends her time either going over the increasing amount of paperwork she’s allowed to look over or by studying the waters gathered at the root of Nordrassil. 

The small lake is peaceful, and the power of the water is something she’s been dying to investigate. One of the keepers, a son of Cenarius if she wasn’t mistaken, explained that the place was given power due to Illidan Stormrage pouring some waters from the original Well of Eternity into the lake, and that the place was and always has been sacred to those who worship nature. 

Given the circumstances, Thalyssra tries her best to keep all her investigations respectful, taking measurements and writing notes on the magical capabilities of the water and the plant life that grows around it. 

She’s assisted by some young, night-elf druids, who seem quite curious about her and what she’s doing, as well as the dozen sentinels assigned to escort her around Hyjal in shifts. 

“What are you doing now?” The youngest druid, a beta girl who probably wasn’t yet old enough to fight, hovered excitedly at her side.

“I’m measuring the arcane manifestations in the roots collected from the trees within a fifty pace radius of the waterline,” Thalyssra explains, dropping a thin shred of bark into a small tube. She pours mana-detecting liquid atop it, watching as it darkens in response. “How dark the liquid gets tells me how much power is stored inside the root.”

“Cool,” the girl looks closely, noting that the liquid had turned a deep gray color. “Is that good?”

“Indeed,” Thalyssra writes down the measure in her notes. “The root is deeply saturated with mana and _healthy._ That’s good news for Nordrassil. It signals that the damage done to the World Tree has been mostly cycled out at the base.”

“Well I mean,” the beta shrugged. “We knew that already.”

“Perhaps,” Thalyssra looks over her notes. “But the research I’m doing is aimed at how the tree grows over time, so that any future World Tree saplings that are planted do not face the same issues with corruption that Teldrassil unfortunately did.”

“I thought it was the Aspects’ blessing that protected Nordrassil,” the druid scratched at her head. “Wasn’t it?”

“It was,” The First Arcanist studied her latest notes, frowning slightly when she recognized a slight miscalculation on a water sample she did yesterday. “But the goal here is to create saplings that already naturally possess resistance to corruption. Nordrassil’s roots have grown with the Aspect’s blessings engraved into its very being- I’m trying to find a way to imitate that in saplings.”

The druid nodded her head sagely, “Ah yes. I see. Very scientific of you.”

“You have no idea what I’m talking about still, do you?” 

_“No idea,”_ the girl shrugs. “But I’ll figure it out eventually.”

Thalyssra chuckled, readying another sample as she grabbed an empty flask, “I’m sure you will. Now, excuse me, it appears I need to gather some more water from the lake.”

The druid bowed her head before turning and running off towards a small group of champions that were hanging out near the temple. She watched as two turned into moonkin, making wild gestures at each other while the others cheered and laughed them on. 

Thalyssra shook her head, a slight smile on her face, before clearing her voice to catch the attention of the Sentinels standing off to the side, “I’m going down to the water’s edge.” 

They both nodded, two moving to follow her as the third stayed behind to ensure no one messed with the table of equipment she’d set up in her little research tent. 

The delta approached the keeper at the water’s edge, bowing respectfully as he turned to greet her, _“Ishnu-alah,_ First Arcanist.”

_“Ishnu-alah,_ Keeper,” Thalyssra points towards the water. “I was hoping I might be allowed another sample of the lake?”

“As you wish,” the Keeper nods his head in assent. 

Thalyssra thanks him and walks past, kneeling at the water’s edge as she collects a small amount for her research. 

As always, she takes a moment to appreciate the sheer _power_ she feels coming off the lake, before standing and turning to make her way back. 

A ripple deep beneath the water suddenly catches her attention, something _other_ than the lake's natural power thrums through the air. 

Thalyssra starts, a deep feeling of unease breaking through her body, before she looks towards the Keeper, who also stares out at the water with a suspicious expression, “Did you see that?”

“I did,” the Keeper frowns, even as the water stills and the feeling of wrongness passes. “Odd things happen here all the time. It was probably nothing. Return to your previous doings, before our conversation makes your guards even more nervous.”

Thalyssra looks back at the Sentinels, who grab their weapons anxiously in anticipation of an enemy they cannot see. She waves them off, heading back towards her make-shift research area with the filled flask, “Come on now. I still have five samples left to inspect today.”

They fall in line behind her, and the delta looks back, watching as the Keeper beckons several senior Alliance champions to him. 

He sends them around the water, while one goes as far as to dive in towards the bottom. 

She doesn’t stare long enough to see what they’re doing, but the whole thing leaves a broiling stew of nauseous fear in her stomach, making her feel as if she were going to spew whatever she had for lunch all over the lush green grass in front of her. 

Oh wait, _she was._

The arcanist lunges forward, bracing herself on her knees as the sudden urge to vomit pulsed through her body. The sentinels, upon seeing her actions, went up behind her, watching carefully for any sign that she may need aid as Thalyssra emptied her stomach onto the ground before her. 

“Are you alright, my lady?” The taller Sentinel, an alpha from the smell of it, asked worriedly. 

“I’m fine,” Thalyssra gasped as the heaving passed, grimacing at the taste in her mouth. She held out a hand, “Water, please?”

“Here,” the second handed her a waterskin. 

Thalyssra swirled the first mouthful, before spitting it back out. Repeating the process several times until the acidy taste was gone. Then she took several drinks, the cool liquid settling in her stomach easily despite the odd bout of earlier nausea she’d just experienced, “Thank you.”

“It’s no problem, my lady,” the second took back the waterskin, clasping it to her belt as the first looked towards the delta with concern. 

“Are you alright, First Arcanist?”

“I’m fine,” Thalyssra waved them off, looking down at the mess and waving her hand to clean it up with a minor spell. “Must have been the lunch I had. Wild bass has never quite agreed with me.”

“If you say so,” the Sentinels fell back in line behind her, and Thalyssra walked back to her table with relative ease considering how violently sick she’d just randomly become. 

She supposed it might have been the lingering side-effects she’d gotten from going off the suppressants, but it seemed as if they were getting _worse_ instead of better. 

Pulling out her journal, Thalyssra made a note to ask Malfurion about possibly seeing a trusted healer. Given her unique dynamic, there were few that could be considered qualified to tend to her, but she was sure the Alliance probably had a list lying around somewhere.

After that she continues her work for several hours, the time flying by quickly as she falls back into a familiar routine any researcher would know. 

Gradually, the sun begins to descend, the moon’s light filtering through the trees as stars start decorating the sky. 

Footsteps come up behind her as Thalyssra buries her face in a scroll on recorded plant life on Hyjal’s Summit, and she looks up once she hears the three Sentinel’s snap to attention with precise movements. 

Tyrande approaches, her face unreadable save for the look of fond appreciation that flashes in her eyes as she dismisses the Sentinels’ for the night. 

The three all salute before marching away, their voices whisper indistinctly to each other until they cross behind a building and disappear from sight. 

Thalyssra is silent as Tyrande’s eyes take her in. The alpha’s gaze searches over her form for anything out of place, while the delta tries not to squirm underneath that hard stare, “I take it you’re back then?”

The High-Priestess nods, “We’ve halted the Horde’s advance, and pushed them back far quicker than I anticipated.” She pauses, “The portal supply lines the Chief Telemancer oversaw helped a great deal.”

“I’m sure Oculeth is very happy to be of service,” Thalyssra replied, trying to keep her tone even.

Tyrande raised an eyebrow, her beautiful dark eyes glowing enticingly in the dim light of the evening, “You seem to be choosing your words very carefully right now.”

“I don’t know what to expect with you,” Thalyssra responds truthfully. “Any time I see you, it’s either due to something in Suramar or because you mean to lay with me.”

Tyrande blinks, a look of surprise overtaking her face, before she abruptly turns towards the tent flaps and closes them. She turns back to Thalyssra, “Is that how you feel?”

“Yes,” the delta watches warily as the Night-Warrior sinks into a chair across from her. 

“And that _bothers_ you?” Tyrande rubbed at her temple, “I thought you preferred it like this.”

“I do appreciate the privacy and independence I’m allowed,” Thalyssra shakes her head. “But I’ve seen you only a handful of times since you put this mark on my neck.”

“We spent several days together after the wedding,” Tyrande reminded. “Does that not count?” 

“Four days out of a _month_ with only a few brief glimpses hardly makes a difference,” Thalyssra rubbed at her arms, feeling the chill of the evening air permeating the tent. “Especially given that those days were mostly spent in bed with you pressing my face into the mattress.”

“What? Would you have preferred I buy you dinner first?” Tyrande retorted dryly. 

“I would prefer my mate not be a total stranger,” Thalyssra rubbed her arms, feeling the chill of the night air. “I know we don’t particularly _like_ each other, but mating bonds depend on more than just physical acts. You of all people should know that, High-Priestess.”

Tyrande’s eyes grew angry, “And what is that supposed to mean?”

“I’m not a fool,” Thalyssra felt a warning siren go off in her head, facing down an angry Night-Warrior isn’t how she expected to spend her evening. “You have an _intense_ emotional connection with Malfurion. You _know_ how important they are to maintaining a healthy mating bond, and yet somehow you thought ours would do fine without it?”

The High-Priestess sighed sharply and looked away, her hand clenching on the chair arm as she inhaled sharply through her teeth, “I have been with Malfurion for thousands of years. We have been together for a mere month in comparison. Of course my connection to him is more intense and important.”

Thalyssra frowned, “It’s _not_ a competition. Since I’ve arrived here, I’ve spent more time with Malfurion than I have _you,_ and he’s not the one I’m supposed to be married to.” She pursed her lips and looked away, “It’s just- It’s _weird,_ ok? I never even wanted to be mated- much less married- I mean…” The arcanist exhaled tiredly, “You are the _only_ person who has ever been allowed to mark me. All my life, I thought- if I _ever_ did desire to bond with someone- it’d be _special._ And instead it’s this odd situation that I’m not even sure how to navigate, because my mate is some all-powerful extension of the moon goddess who’d rather spend her time on the battlefield than with me.”

That seemed to snap something within Tyrande’s mind, and she stood up, approaching Thalyssra with a hard look on her face, “Well? What did you expect? Did you think I _planned_ this- that I _wanted_ this!? You were supposed to be thrown into a cell after we took Suramar, First Arcanist. The fact that _you’re_ an omega with the delta-variation is the only thing that saved you.” Tyrande placed her hands on the arm rests of Thalyssra’s chair, leaning down close into the nightborne’s personal space, “I’ve done my part to make this binding. You have more freedom than should be allowed, and we gave your people a better deal than you deserved considering the circumstances.”

_“Our_ people, Tyrande,” Thalyssra reminded her, a tired intonation in her voice. “Suramar is under Darnassian rule now, remember?” She placed her hands on the alpha’s chest, pushing her back with perhaps more force than necessary, “Or will you conveniently forget every time your wife becomes difficult!?”

“I know my place in all this, First Arcanist!” Tyrande barely budged an inch, her muscles tensed with anger and her eyes gleamed darkly in the shallow light. “Perhaps you should learn yours!”

“My place is in Suramar!” Thalyssra snapped. “With the rest of the Shal’dorei! Not here with a wife who can barely stand to be around me outside of the bedroom!” Her voice teemed with frustration, tears brimming in her eyes, “I’m not some chore to be done every two weeks. For the Night-Well’s sake, I’m the First Arcanist of Suramar! I led a rebellion that toppled a regime over ten _thousand_ years old, and goddess damn it all, right now I’m one of the strongest mages to walk the face of the planet! You will appreciate that, _or I will find someone who_ _will!”_

Looking back on it, Thalyssra should have known threatening to take a lover on the side wasn’t a good idea. Legally, there was nothing officially in the agreement that prevented it, so long as she kept only Tyrande’s mark on her neck. 

But the _understanding_ that she would stay true to only the High-Priestess was there. Furthermore, alpha’s were _possessive,_ and antagonizing the one that was essentially the strongest in Kalimdor was very much **not** a good idea on Thalyssra’s part. 

She went still the moment a hand wrapped around her neck, a slight shiver running down her spine as Tyrande's rigid face came ever closer. Her eyes grew darker as the aura of the Night-Warrior’s cold rage washed over the area. Thalyssra felt her heart quicken in her chest with a mortifying mixture of both fear and arousal in response to the alpha’s rather obvious display of dominance.

“Perhaps it is a bit hypocritical of me,” the alpha spoke with cold certainty. “But I do _not_ share, First Arcanist. The Alliance lost soldiers taking your city. We made sacrifices to ensure the Shal’dorei were brought to heel, to ensure that _you_ were brought to heel. This treaty is new- this marriage is new- this _mating bond_ is new. My claim over you is the glue keeping it all together, and I will kill _anyone_ foolish enough to even try and threaten that. You are _mine,_ Thalyssra- do you understand?”

Her throat felt dry, the feeling of the priestess’s hand wrapped around her throat was firm. She swallowed nervously, nodding her head once as the grip on her neck loosened, “I understand.”

Tyrande smirked, something akin to satisfaction shining in her eyes, before she released her mate’s neck. 

Thalyssra took the moment to breath, letting out a shaking sigh of relief that was interrupted by the feeling of Tyrande pressing back into her space. 

The alpha crowded her into the chair, claiming her lips in a hungry, desperate kiss that was tinged with possessive lust. 

Thalyssra couldn’t help the stir of heat that the kiss ignited, her entire body warming as hands grabbed at her body greedily. 

When they finally broke apart, the delta’s entire face was flushed, the warmth traveling down to darken the exposed skin of her cleavage. 

Tyrande leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of each breast, before trailing her nose back up, eventually coming to press against the skin of the mating mark. 

She inhaled deeply, testing the hormones in the claimed scent gland located directly under the mark, “The bond’s starting to weaken. We’ll need to strengthen it.”

“Not tonight,” Thalyssra pleads softly, her voice cracking with stress. “Not- not like this.”

Something in her tone causes Tyrande to recoil, and she backs up off the delta several feet. 

Her face scrunches up, turmoil boiling beneath her gaze. For a moment, the arcanist glimpses a flash of blue from within the inky pools of the Night-Warrior’s eyes, before it passes and the alpha’s face goes back to its seemingly permanent scowling look. 

She turns away from the Shal’dorei leader, and it’s plain to see how tense the Night Elf has suddenly become. She speaks haltingly, and her voice seems too even, as if she is forcing her tone to stay neutral, “As you wish, First Arcanist.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Dalaran - Three Years Before the Third War**

_“You look like you need to give whoever forced that perfume on you a good punch to the face.”_

_Jaina jumped in surprise, turning to stare at the Quel’dorei woman, a beta from the scent of her, who had approached her so openly, “Uh, pardon me?”_

_“The perfume- it’s blocking your scent, isn’t it?” The beta sniffed the air curiously, her platinum blonde hair shining in the light as her hood fell several inches back off her head. “I can smell your real scent poking out underneath.”_

_“What’s it matter to you?” Jaina pulled the hood tighter over her head, trying to ignore the fact that the bold stranger both looked and smelled absolutely delightful._

_“Oh it’s nothing personal,” the elf shrugged. “I was just wondering if you get a terrible headache from it. I tried one similar when I was younger to try and make myself smell like an alpha, but it just made me dizzy and confused. My older sister made me stop when she told our minn’da about it.”_

_Jaina felt some of her defensiveness melt away, a tired look overtaking her face, “My mother doesn’t know I’m using this. I-” She stuttered, “I don’t think she’d approve either.”_

_“Well, considering this perfume is usually used by people in the process of transitioning their dynamic,” she gave the mage in training a once-over. “...and you don’t look like that’s something you’re doing- I imagine she probably wouldn’t approve at all.”_

_Jaina’s lip twitched, “Hit the nail on the head there.”_

_The elf gestured at the empty spot on Jaina’s bench, “May I sit?”_

_“You may,” Jaina scooted over to make room, watching the quel’dorei ranger sink into the spot with a self-satisfied groan._

_“Thank you,” The beta grinned. “I’ve been standing all day. Finally got some rest time and decided to tour the city a bit. Turns out that’s a bad idea. This is the first bench I’ve seen in over an hour.”_

_“Most are situated in this area unfortunately,” Jaina smiled lightly. “Next time you walk the city, I’d advise bringing a chair.”_

_“Why bring a chair?” Her eyes flicked to Jaina’s face, “When I can sit on the perfectly good ground instead?”_

_“I suppose that’s a decent alternative,” the Kul-Tiran laughed lightly. “So, if I may ask, what brings you to the city?”_

_“Politics and other boring things,” the beta cocked her head. “Although, I’m more curious about_ **_why_ ** _you’re wearing that perfume. Those things are horrid on the body.”_

_“I-” Jaina hesitated, “I can’t really get into it. My fiancé- he’s just picky about some things.”_

_“Your fiancé?” The elf’s eyebrows shot right up, making her perfect face a good picture of surprise. “Is he the one who’s making you wear it?”_

_Jaina bit her lip and looked away, fidgeting with her fingers nervously, “He’s just a little weird about one day marrying another alpha.”_

_“And so he tries to make you be something you’re not?” The elf scoffed. “It may not be my place, madam. But if he really loves you, he wouldn’t try to change you. This isn’t a small thing like a hair change or a new style of clothes. Your dynamic is a part of who you are. If he doesn’t like the picture of him being with another alpha- then well… maybe he shouldn’t be dating one. What he’s doing isn’t healthy.”_

_Something akin to relief surged in her chest, a balloon of uncertainty and fear popping as someone else gave voice to the lingering doubts she’d been hearing in the back of her head about Arthas, “Truthfully, I’ve been thinking a lot about it too. It’s nice to hear it from another I suppose- gives me vindication to know that I’m not the only one who’s thinking this.”_

_“Glad to be of service, ma’am,” the elf playfully saluted, shooting her a warm grin that had her stomach doing flip-flops._

_Jaina felt a tug, a need to know more building in her mind. She held out a hand, feeling almost shy as she offered a greeting, “I’m Jaina Proudmoore- official mage in training for the Kirin Tor.”_

_The woman smiled brightly, her beautiful blue eyes gleaming nicely in the sunlight. She took Jaina’s hand in a firm, drawn out shake, “Pleasure to make your acquaintance Jaina. I’m Sylvanas Windrunner- official Ranger-General of Quel'thalas.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Feel free to leave a comment below, I really love to see your feedback and reactions!  
> I'll have the next chapter up before the end of the month.  
> Until the next time~


	4. Promising Developments

“You certainly look like you had a rough night,” Thalyssra remarked playfully, looking over her oldest friend with a keen eye. 

Valtrois sighed dramatically, “Rough in a  _ good  _ way, Thalyssra. Allow me to be the first to inform you that Stella and I have happily broke our fifth bedframe last night!”

“Only five?” Thalyssra raised an eyebrow. “I thought it was at seven?”

Valtrois pointed a finger at her, popping a grape into her mouth with the other hand, “No, it’s five- that business with the two couches I had in my office doesn’t count.”

The delta laughed, shaking her head as the junior arcanist shot her a grin, “I still can’t believe it took a  _ dragon  _ for you to finally find your match, Valtrois.”

“What can I say, Thalyssra?” The ley-line expert shrugged, “I’m one of a kind. And trust me,  _ I’m  _ the one putting my dear mate through her paces. I will not rest until I’ve thoroughly debauched her in every city on Azeroth.”

Thalyssra snorted, “I hardly doubt Stellagosa’s complaining.”

“Oh not at all,” Valtrois took a long sip of her wine. “Most of the time, she’s too busy using her mouth to see to a very important task situated between my thighs.”

Outside the private wine room, the two heard one of Thalyssra’s sentinel guards choke violently as the shameless words reached their ears. 

Thalyssra bit back a laugh, “Do you have to torture my escort so brazenly?”

“It’s not my fault they’re not sexually liberated,” Valtrois tapped her chin. “Although, given what you’ve told me about Tyrande, their shyness does surprise me considering what a freak their leader is in bed.”

More choking could be heard outside the room, followed by sputtering coughs as both sentinel guards now fought to regain their cool after  _ that  _ statement. 

Thalyssra smacked her friend on the arm playfully, laughing lightly as the other omega looked back at her with a grin. After the rather frightening conversation she had with her wife last night, the First Arcanist was glad to be spending some quality time with one of her closest companions, “You’re terrible, you know that?”

“Terrible and proud of it, darling!”

They both chuckled, taking sips of their wine as they chatted about every little thing their minds could come up with. 

Well, everything that wasn’t directly attributed to Thalyssra and Suramar’s current predicament. 

The delta made a face as her stomach rumbled angrily, the wine didn’t taste as good as she remembered, and she set the glass aside with a wordless frown. 

Valtrois watched her carefully, “You put your glass down- that’s a bad sign.”

“It tastes off, that’s all,” Thalyssra rubbed at her temple. “And I haven’t had much of a hankering for wine lately. Not since the wedding.”

“And how is your charming wife?”

Thalyssra grimaced, “She’s… an alpha. What more can I say?”

“OH,” Valtrois leaned forward. “There’s something hidden behind that statement. What happened?” 

“We got into a little disagreement about our stance on this marriage,” Thalyssra picked up her water goblet, swirling the liquid around slowly. “I want a bit more interaction and respect outside the bedroom, and she disagreed.” She looked a little sheepish, “So I told her I’d find someone else to appreciate me if she could not.”

Valtrois’ face went slack, her jaw falling open comically, “And  _ how  _ did the Night-Warrior respond to that!?”

“How do you  _ think  _ she responded?” The First Arcanist groaned, leaning back in her chair with a pained expression. “She told me she does not share, and that she’ll kill anyone who threatens her claim over me.”

“Wow,” Valtrois blinked. “She really went and told you,  _ “My dick,or no dick,”  _ huh?”

“Sure did,” Thalyssra took a sip of her water. “But then again, it probably wasn’t very wise of me to antagonize her like that.”

“Well, considering she’s the alpha to rule all alphas, I’d say you’re probably right,” Valtrois shrugged, “But she also wasn’t treating you with the respect you deserve. You’re not some bed warmer that she gets to summon from the nearest brothel whenever she desires amusement. Despite the interim council ruling, you’re still considered the legal ruler of Suramar. You’re an immensely powerful mage, as well as a rare dynamic of omega that are sacred to  _ Elune-  _ you know, the goddess she is High-Priestess to!? I know there’s probably an untold number of people who’d happily be in your place, but think of how many would love to be in  _ her  _ place?”

Valtrois inclined her head, “Tyrande is extremely lucky to have you, Thalyssra. It’s important that she remembers that.”

Thalyssra felt a swell of appreciation at that, giving her friend a thankful smile, “I know, Val. I just- things are difficult to navigate with Tyrande. Half the time, I’m not sure what I did to set her off. She switches between contempt and attraction like she’s flipping a coin.”

“Maybe you could ask Malfurion for help?” The other omega offered. “He’s been with her for millenia. If anyone would know how to handle her, it would be him.”

“Perhaps,” Thalyssra looked back towards the door, lowering her voice to ensure the Sentinels did not hear. “They fought last night. Malfurion and Tyrande. I guess I visibly looked rattled from the fight, because he took one glance at me and knew something was up. I went to my room early on in the night, but I could hear them going back and forth for hours. He didn’t sound happy, and Tyrande wasn’t any better.”   
Thalyssra sighed angrily, “It’s not exactly the way I envisioned it might happen, but this is what I was worried about when I agreed to the proposal. I fear my presence might cause a rift between them.”

“They’ve been together all these years, I doubt anything serious will come out of it,” Valtrois dismissed the idea. “Besides, given that he’s apparently been siding with you, they were probably arguing about how Whisperwind treats you.”

“That still doesn’t make it any be-” Thalyssra paused, a wave of nausea washing over her as she leaned forward and pressed a hand over her face. 

Valtrois, who had spent many a hangover in her friend’s presence, recognized the action, materializing a waste basket in front of the delta as Thalyssra abruptly heaved and expelled the contents of her stomach into it.

She coughed and heaved for a few more seconds before sitting back up as Valtrois magicked away the basket and it’s contents, pouring her friend some fresh water from the nearby pitcher into her goblet, “My goodness! Don’t tell me you’re  _ still  _ experiencing symptoms from suppressant withdrawal!?”

“Unfortunately, I am,” Thalyssra spit the water out into another basket, repeating the action several times until the acidic taste was gone from her mouth. 

“It’s been over a month already,” Valtrois looked suspicious. “Have you seen a healer yet? It might be something else.”

“I made an appointment three days out,” Thalyssra answered. “I have no other symptoms beyond the usual I’ve been experiencing. I doubt it’s anything besides just a bad withdrawal. I was on those suppressants for a long time after all.”

“If you say so,” Valtrois didn’t look convinced, but decided to drop the subject anyway. “What about the new recall order? Saw you signed on it, but those definitely weren’t your words.”

“Shandris wrote it up with the interim council,” Thalyssra downed the rest of her water. “Starting next week, all Nightborne champions will be required to report to Boralus for ‘official assignments.’ It’s  _ supposed  _ to be time-sensitive, but I imagine quite a few will wait until the last minute.”

“I think it’s just a ruse to get the lingering ones out of Horde territory,” Valtrois proclaimed. “I heard that some of the Alliance leadership, which oddly enough includes  _ you  _ now, were unhappy that some champions decided to stay behind in Silvermoon and Zandalar.”

“Of course they are,” Thalyssra sighed lightly. “Those champions are some of our strongest weapons- weapons that the Alliance undoubtedly wants to utilize. I doubt you’ll see any on the frontlines for some time, but they already have Oculeth overseeing a complete overhaul of the portal systems on the warfronts. His changes impressed even the Gilnean king from what I heard.”

“Well that’s not surprising,” Valtrois laughed. “We both know Oculeth’s passion comes from a never-ending drive to perfect his telemancing abilities. He doesn’t care which side of the war we’re on as long as he’s got some portals to work on.”

Thalyssra grinned and raised her glass, “Truer words have never been spoken.”

Her friend extended her own glass, tapping them together in mock cheer before they went back to discussing the latest news from the warfront.

In wake of Suramar’s Alliance annexation, the Horde had pushed back violently along Stromgarde and the Darkshore. Light fighting was still going on in Zuldazar, but most Alliance presence in that area was in the process of a recall. 

For the moment, even with the Horde’s loss of the Nightborne, they were still militarily more than capable of pushing their assault forward. Undoubtedly, the loss of Suramar probably fueled them. Thalyssra knew many of her citizens, despite their hesitation with the recent actions of the war, had made many friends within the Horde. 

Losing that was a blow to morale that was highly likely to be weighing heavily on the minds of the Horde warmachine. 

“Do you miss them?” Valtrois asked quietly, all too aware of the Sentinel’s hovering right outside the room, “The  _ other  _ leaders?”

Thalyssra felt her shoulders sag, a heavy weight pressing down on her, “Yes. I suppose I do. No matter the circumstances- they were our comrades before  _ this  _ happened.”

“It doesn’t help that you seemed a little sweet on those Sin’dorei too,” Valtrois teased. “I couldn’t tell if you liked Liadrin or Lor’Themar more sometimes.”

“Not like it matters anymore,” Thalyssra warily turned towards the door, feeling paranoid at possibly being overheard. “That bud never had a chance to bloom.” She smiled ruefully, “And now it’s been thoroughly nipped at the base. Tyrande’s made that very clear- whether she realizes it or not.”

“Probably best not to bring your past feelings to her attention then,” Valtrois chuckled. “Last thing I’m sure the Alliance needs is their High-Priestess going rogue to try and assassinate Silvermoon’s leaders.”

“They’d all have a heart-attack,” Thalyssra says. “They try to limit what information is released to me, but Malfurion lets his worry for Tyrande slip through quite a lot. She’s hard to control on the battlefield. King Anduin actually had to step in more than once to reign her in during some of the skirmishes.”

“She’s scary,” Valtrois shivered. “Makes me wonder how Stormrage handles it given how goofy you say he is.”

“They balance each other out,” the delta drummed her fingers against the arm of her chair. “I’ve seen it. He’s firm when he needs to be, and I feel like he’s tightened the reins a bit more since Tyrande’s become the Night-Warrior, but he’s still very absent-minded sometimes. His light-hearted nature seems to be good for her, and right now I can hardly complain. He’s been the main pillar of support I can rely on here in Hyjal.”

Valtrois nods in approval, “It’s good that you two are getting along- gods know you need all the friends you can get here with how disconnected they’re keeping you from our people.”

“He really has been generous, Valtrois,” Thalyssra swallowed nervously. “I even told him about my pregnancy and the adoption. He thinks there might still be records of the refugees from Ara-Hinam. He’s offered to help me find out whether or not my-” She exhaled shakily, “Whether or not  _ she  _ survived.”

“Do you even remember the names?” Valtrois asked, surprise plain on her face. It wasn’t often that the First Arcanist liked to talk about the daughter she gave up all those years ago. 

“I don’t, but I still have the paperwork,” Thalyssra shrugged. “It’s back at my estate in Suramar- in the family vault. I haven’t looked at it in centuries- I’m not even sure how well a condition the documents are in.”

“Well, sooner or later you’ll have to find out,” Valtrois fixed her with a inquisitive look. “Are you even sure you want to?”

Thalyssra looked away, uncertainty boiling in her stomach as her skin danced with nerves. She refilled her water, taking another long drink as she mulled over the question, “I-” She closed her eyes, “I’m not sure. It’s been so long. I was so young when I had her. If she survived there’s probably not much a difference between us. It would be difficult for me to equate a grown adult to my daughter when I still remember her as a newborn baby.”

“Well, whatever you chose,” Valtrois raised her glass in a salute. “You know I’m with you.”

Thalyssra smiled, “That I do, old friend.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The day passed quickly after Valtrois’s morning visit, and Thalyssra soon found herself back in her room, looking over some old reports Malfurion had gave her on the corruption that had plagued Teldrassil. 

Given her research, she was fairly confident that she’d be able to create incorruptible seedlings of Nordrassil, effectively paving the way for future world trees. 

But the magic was unpredictable and dangerous, something that she was able to perceive from her tests run on the lake’s magical waters. 

She’s elbows deep in papers when there’s a knock on her door, firm and singular. 

“Come in!” Thalyssra sits up, fully expecting Malfurion to come through the entryway and announce that it was time for dinner as he did every evening. 

Instead, Tyrande opens the door, stepping inside tentatively and fixing her with an unreadable look,  _ “Ishnu-alah, _ First Arcanist. Has your day been well?”

“It has,” Thalyssra feels her mouth go slightly dry, the argument from the night before still clouding her mind. “Thank you for asking.”

“Good,” Tyrande sighs, her face relaxing as she lets her shoulders relax from their tense position. “I came here to offer an apology for my unseemly behavior yesterday. Malfurion and I had a talk, and I realize now that perhaps you are right. I have not been treating you as befitting your station.” She bows her head, “Nor have I shown you the respect you are due as my bonded wife.”

“Well,” Thalyssra feels something akin to relief melt in her stomach. She can tell Tyrande’s being honest- no way the Night-Warrior would subject herself to apologizing if it wasn’t truly meant. “It’s fine. There were bound to be growing pains anyway.” She turned in her chair, making eye-contact with the alpha, “I’m sorry for provoking you. It was not right to use my words like that. I would never think to threaten the agreement by acting so callously.”

“As you said, there were bound to be growing pains, right?” Tyrande approached, coming up to stand beside the desk. “I know there will be disagreements in the future. This bond may be young, but our perception of each other is already riddled with old wounds that are likely to ache every now and then. I will do my part to try and make this work for the good of our people,” She smirked lightly. “Even if that means taking you out once a week for quality time.”

“I have no issue with that,” Thalyssra cranes her head to look up at her. She could stand and even their gaze, but some part of her likes how Tyrande leans against the desk, looking down at her with a dark eyes that for once don’t feel entirely threatening. 

“Tomorrow night a band from Stormwind is supposed to play in the local theater,” Tyrande trails a finger along the edge of the desk. “I’m normally not a fan of human music. But I heard they’re known for creating rather memorable romantic psychedelic songs.”

“It sounds lovely,” Thalyssra smiled. “Should I expect a dress code?”

“I don’t believe so,” Tyrande’s finger travels up the arcanist’s arm, gently trailing along her shoulder, neck, and jawline in a surprisingly tender action. “We’ll have our own private area and balcony overlooking the theater. Mostly to ensure your own protection. I doubt enough people will see you to question your style of dress for the evening.”   
Thalyssra ears flick upwards, an actual stroke of excitement thrumming in her chest, “Very well. I look forward to it.”

Tyrande nods her head once, the finger trailing underneath the delta’s chin and going rigid as she tilts her wife’s head upwards. 

Thalyssra feels the press of the priestess’s lips against her own, eyes fluttering shut as the kiss goes on for several seconds. 

When they break apart, Tyrande exhales shakily, her face looks almost pained, “Your happiness is a reflection on me. Your health is a reflection on me. The stability of this bond is a reflection on  _ me.”  _ She murmurs her words quietly, “For better or for worse, we are tied together now. Despite our previous misgivings, you’ve given me no reason to doubt your loyalty since signing that agreement. As long as that fact stays true, I will do my best to make this a little less painful for both of us.”

Thalyssra’s eyes softened at the sincerity, “As will I, High-Priestess. Whatever you may think of me, I am committed to seeing this through. So long as the Alliance continues to uphold their oath to the Shal’dorei, I promise to remain faithful to the agreement and to  _ you.”  _

No matter Tyrande’s personal reservations, it was clear that Thalyssra’s promise was pleasing to her. She kissed her again, capturing the delta’s slight moan with her lips, before pulling away and leaving the First Arcanist flushed and breathless.

The Night-Warrior straightened up, rising to her full height in a way that wasn’t quite meant to be intimidating, and turned back towards the door. 

She paused, looking back at Thalyssra just as the nightborne glanced to her paperwork, “Malfurion said dinner is ready.”

Thalyssra blinks a little sluggish, still taken aback by the sweetness of the kiss, “Ah yes, I’ll be right there.”

Tyrande bows her head, leaving the quickly while Thalyssra stares after her, the sound of the alpha’s light steps echoing along the wood floors of the hall. 

She looks back at her paperwork, suddenly feeling much less able to focus. The arcanist isn’t quite sure what triggered her mate’s complete emotional 180, but she was not going to complain. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That following night, she actually spends a good amount of time getting ready. 

They don’t allow her to wear her usual arcanist trinkets, leaving her to rely on non-magical pieces for her ensemble. Fashion has never been a particular interest for her, but now she’s glad that she spent all those hours listening to Valtrois and Ly’Leth drone on and on about the latest dresses and hairstyles in the months following Suramar’s entrance into Azeroth’s cultural sphere. 

She wears a dress similar to her usual robes, although it goes a bit further down her legs. It hugs her curves nicely, and she likes the confidence it gives her. She wears the necklace Malfurion gave her, along with silver bracelets and bangles for her arms. 

She makes sure her hair is neat, letting it hang down her face freely. Because she doesn’t have her normal hood on, she has to enchant her hair to keep it from getting tangled.

And when everything is said and done, she looks good. It’s not overly fancy, but it’s designed to complement her features, and the natural beauty of her figure is something anyone with eyes could appreciate. 

When it’s time to go, Tyrande shows up wearing her usual armor, although it’s easy to tell that the inlaid metal bits have been polished to perfection. The alpha looks her over, a slight gleam of appreciation appearing in her eyes, “You look-” She smirks,  _ “...very  _ nice, First Arcanist.”

“Thank you,” Thalyssra covered her mouth, hiding her smile. “You look  _ very  _ shiny.”

Tyrande rolls her eyes in response, and they both turn as Malfurion walks into the entry area. 

He’s holding a report in his hand, a pondering look on his face, “Ah good. I was worried I wouldn’t catch you before you left.”

“What’s happened?” Tyrande asks, turning to face her husband with a slight frown. 

“Nothing bad,” Malfurion hands her the report. “Several members of the Cenarion circle have moved into the reclaimed area of Darkshore and are attempting to heal the land. They’ve requested my help.”

“Will you go?” The priestess asks.

“Yes,” The druid nodded his head. “I will. I’ve arranged to portal out tonight. I likely won’t see you before then.”

“How long will you be gone?” Thalyssra asks, a slight tinge of worry in her voice. She’d become used to being able to rely on Malfurion, and wasn’t quite sure how to handle not having him nearby. 

Especially since she’d be left alone with Tyrande instead.

“Only a few days,” the druid shrugged. “Perhaps a week at most.”

“I am only a message away if you need anything, my love,” Tyrande stated, stepping forward and pulling his face down for a kiss. 

Malfurion visibly smiled against her lips, holding his wife close in a gentle embrace.

Thalyssra realized with a jolt that this was the first time she’d actually seen them kiss, and looked away with a slight flush so that she wouldn’t be caught staring. 

When the kiss ended, they did not immediately step back- instead pressing their foreheads together in an affectionate gesture that was near uniquely kaldorei.

After pulling back, he turned to Thalyssra, taking one of her hands and pressing a chaste kiss to the back of it, “Farewell for now, my friend.” He grinned, “I hope you can survive without my cooking for a few days.”

“Well yes,” Thalyssra clasped the hand that had grabbed hers, holding it between both hands and pressing his fingers briefly against her forehead in an old gesture of respect and friendship. “I suppose we’ll see how much good those lessons have done after all.” She released his hand, “Stay safe, Archdruid.”

“I will try my best,” Malfurion chuckled. “Now go. You two are going to be late.”

True to his word, they were almost late. The pair having to hustle to the moderately sized theater and arriving just minutes before the music was due to start. 

The attendants, a couple of young betas, nearly tripped over themselves in trying to make sure they got to their balcony in time. 

For a theater, it was built in a relatively modern style, and Thalyssra had the inkling that it had most likely been built fairly recently. 

Their balcony, which had a love-seat styled bench, was attached to a small private area with a freshener and reclining couch. 

They settle on the balcony, the pair sitting with only a few inches separating them. 

It’s pleasantly cool within the theater, and Thalyssra finds herself idly taking drinks of her water as they watch the band begin the first part of their act.

From their vantage point, they can see plenty of the younger generation below dancing in the audience. The music seems to be popular with them, and they hardly even notice the fact that there’s faction leaders in the building. 

“I miss the days when I could be that carefree,” Thalyssra sighed. “Seems like I took them for granted looking back on it.”

Tyrande looks at her from the corner of her eye, “I couldn’t agree more.” She turns her attention back to scanning the crowd, “It feels like I haven’t had a chance to be carefree since the Legion’s first invasion. My people needed a leader they could rely on. I had no choice but to step up to the task.”

“If they still want you around after ten thousand years, then I suspect you must be doing something right,” Thalyssra looked down at the crowd, where some groups had looked up and noticed their presence. Dozens of smiling faces beamed at Tyrande in particular, a deep resonation of love for their High-Priestess shining through the atmosphere, “They adore you.”   
“And I adore them,” Tyrande lifted a hand in recognition of the attention, and most of the smiling faces turned back to the band, satisfied to see they had been acknowledged. “I would give  _ anything  _ for them.” She turned her raised hand to her face, touching the scarring marks that the Night-Warrior’s power was beginning to leave around her eyes, “No price is too high if it means I can protect the living and avenge the dead.”

“That’s a heavy weight to carry,” Thalyssra said. 

“Is it not one you are familiar with?” Tyrande asked, an eyebrow rising delicately above her eye. “You tried to overthrow a corrupt regime that threatened to hand your home over to the Legion, was betrayed by your ally, stabbed through the back, and had to swim several predator infested miles to get to safety.” The alpha sounded mildly impressed, “And you still managed to put together a formidable rebellion, even though the arcane-dependency withdrawals must have nearly driven you to madness.”

“There was a point I couldn’t even speak because the hunger pains were too much to handle,” Thalyssra looks down at her thighs, remembering how skinny she’d gotten during that turbulent and challenging time. “I was only days away from passing the point of no return. I only survived with help from the Champions.” She smiled slightly in remembrance, “They always made sure I had enough scraps to get me by until the Arcan’dor was ready.”

“The champions are always so eager to help,” Tyrande looked down at the crowd again, noting some who were watching the band. “They’ve grown powerful in recent years. More so than I ever thought they could.”

“Indeed,” Thalyssra agreed. 

After that they talked very little, and surprisingly enough the silence was not awkward. 

Thalyssra found herself enjoying the show, the music being unlike anything she’d ever heard before. It was almost mesmerizing, and lifted her mood higher than it had been in several weeks. 

She swayed lightly in her seat, moving her head back and forth to the beat.

“You appear to be enjoying yourself,” Tyrande leaned to the side, relaxing into the bench. 

“It’s very nice,” Thalyssra smiles. “I’ve rarely been able to go to these things. Even back in Suramar. Elisande always planned them during the celebrations, and most of my time was spent making sure everything ran smoothly.”

“Well, I’m glad you enjoy it,” Tyrande inclines her head. “It’s good to know concerts are a good idea.”

“I also enjoy festivals,” the delta cheekily informs her. “For future reference, of course.”

Tyrande gives her a rare humoring look, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

After that, their conversation goes quiet. The band starts an intermission, and the two head back into the small room, Thalyssra idly lounging around while Tyrande goes to speak with a sentinel commander downstairs about an update from some of their Champions returning from Boralus. 

For a few minutes, Thalyssra does nothing except stare at the wall, mildly alarmed at how well the night was going. It was unlike Tyrande to be so pleasant for a change, and the arcanist assumed that whatever Malfurion had told the Night-Warrior must have gotten through to her. 

If that was the case, she definitely wasn’t going to complain. 

Pouring herself some more water, Thalyssra stiffened when she felt a breeze suddenly brush up behind her, the sound of the window almost silently creaking open would have been missed if not for her heightened sense of sound. 

She turned, eyes going wide when the sight of two young Sin’dorei champions suddenly filled her sight. 

“First Arcanist!” The taller one, a blonde female, nearly wept with relief. 

“What…” Thalyssra blinked, recognition slowly coming over her as she realized who was standing before her. “Nymeria?” She looked towards the other, a slightly younger male with the same tone of hair, “Themas?” 

“The Warchief sent us to get you,” the boy, a young omega barely old enough to drink, earnestly told her. “We’re here to rescue you.”

“The Warchief sent  _ you!?”  _ Thalyssra could hardly believe it. Nymeria and Themas had never done a mission above running a missive. Sylvanas could hardly send them on something like this and expect them to succeed. 

Unless… a cold shiver ran down her spine… the Banshee had another motive behind this.

Thalyssra snapped her head back towards the door. She couldn’t hear Tyrande returning, but knew it was only a matter of time now. 

“You two need to leave,” Thalyssra heart pounded in her chest. “Go back to Silvermoon and stay there! It’s not safe here for you- I can’t-” She swallowed, “I made a deal I can’t break. I’m bound to the Alliance now. I can’t go back.” 

“The Warchief told us about the bond,” Themas, ever the stubborn one, held his ground. “We know you had no choice. No one blames you.” His lower lip quivered, “Please, Thalyssra. The Horde wants to make this right.”

“It’s not that simple, child,” the First Arcanist felt like bile was inching up her throat. “Please, you have to go. I couldn’t bear it if either of you were hurt.” 

“Not without you,” Nymeria’s voice shook despite her bravado. “You took care of us after our parents’ death. We’re not leaving you here where you’re not safe.”

“You two need to listen to me, and listen carefully,” Thalyssra took a deep breath. “I  _ agreed  _ to this treaty because it was the best deal I could get for my people. If I desired another way, they would have offered one. Bonding with the High-Priestess of the Kaldorei offered the best incentives for both Suramar and the Alliance as a whole. They are invested in keeping this treaty and will  _ not  _ risk it unraveling. I am  _ not  _ in danger.”

“But-” 

The sound of footsteps rushing down the hall suddenly filled the room, and Thalyssra only had a second to push the two behind her before the door violently swung open.

Tyrande stared at the scene with cold rage in her eyes, the glaive materializing in her hands as a deep, threatening growl resonated outwards. 

“Wait!” Thalyssra held her hands up placatingly, falling to her knees submissively as she pleaded with the alpha. “Tyrande please! Just wait- let me ex-”

“You have  _ ten seconds,”  _ the Night-Warrior’s voice was chilling, the grip on her weapon tightening by the moment.

“These two were my wards,” Thalyssra explained, trying to keep her voice steady. Tyrande was pumping out pheromones at an alarming rate, showing how truly enraged she was despite her grudging momentary tolerance. “They’re barely old enough to run a missive. Sylvanas sent them to bring me back to the Horde-” Tyrande’s eyes went dark, leaving Thalyssra to quickly speak again,  _ “But  _ she would have known that was damn well impossible by this point.”

Nymeria and Themas tried to stand bravely behind her, but their fear was plausible in the air. Neither had ever fought anyone or anything that even came close to Tyrande’s level of power, and it was easy to see how hopelessly outmatched they would be if it came to blows. 

Apparently, that was enough for Tyrande to somewhat relax. Her grip on the glaive loosened, and Thalyssra could see the tension melt away from her shoulders. 

She fixed the two with a hard look, taking in how young they truly were for the first time, “Were either of you involved with the burning of Teldrassil?”

Nymeria’s face was pale, her hand tightly holding onto her little brother’s, “N-no. We were in Silvermoon, collecting some items from our family’s estate.”

“Their parents were senior champions of the Sin’dorei that died during the early onslaught of the Rebellion in Suramar. They were some of the first to answer the call,” Thalyssra tried to keep her voice even, but not even a millennia of political experience could prepare her on how to deal with a Night-Warrior that was one hundred percent prepared to commit murder, “I took Nymeria and Themas under my protection after the death of their parents. They’re my former wards.”

Tyrande’s lip quivered angrily, “They’re  _ Horde.” _

“As was I,” Thalyssra carefully retorted, watching her wife’s reaction carefully. 

The Kaldorei leader frowned, thinking hard for a second, before she lets out a frustrated growl, _“Guards!”_

Seconds later, several guards barge in, and Thalyssra watched as the two ashen-faced sin’dorei champions were taken into custody. 

Themas’s face went slack with fear, “W-wait!” He glanced back at Thalyssra, his eyes shining with alarm, _“First Arcanist!”_

“Go with them,” Thalyssra hated to hear the fear in his voice. “Listen to their commands.”

“I would take heed of  _ my wife’s  _ advice, blood elves,” Tyrande steely advised as the two were led from the room. “And you might get out of this unharmed.”

Thalyssra’s heart ached as the two were led away, but it was near muddled by the swell of relief in her chest at the fact that Tyrande hadn’t hurt them. 

For now that is. 

The alpha’s eyes turned towards her once they were alone, “They're too green to fight a murloc." She shook her head, "Sylvanas couldn’t have possibly expected those two to succeed.”

Thalyssra clenched her jaw, “Not a chance.”

A huff escaped the Night-Warrior, “She sent them here to die.” Tyrande turned and reached down, pulling the Nightborne to her feet, “Sylvanas thought I would kill them.”

“I am  _ very  _ grateful that she thought wrong,” Thalyssra could smell how tense and worked up Tyrande was- her instincts had sent adrenaline thrumming through her veins upon scenting the intruders, and now she was left without an outlet.

At least, not one that involved  _ fighting.  _

“The Sentinels outside will escort you back,” Tyrande reached up and trailed a finger along the omega’s jawline. “I must speak further with your would-be saviors.”

“They don’t understand the severity of what’s happened,” Thalyssra’s eyelids fluttered at the touch. “They wouldn’t have accepted this mission if it wasn’t for me.”

“You could have left with them,” Tyrande murmured. “You could have easily escaped.”

“We both know that’s not an option anymore,” the Arcanist replied softly. “My place is here.”

Her response seems to please the alpha, and the High-Priestess pulls away with a gleam in her eye. She steps towards the doorway, gesturing for her spouse to pass first. 

“I won’t be long,” Tyrande’s tone resonates smoother than honey. “Leave your door unlocked if you desire  _ company  _ tonight, First Arcanist.”

Thalyssra may be able to beat down the flush that threatens to cover her face, but she can do nothing to stop the thrill of excitement fluttering in her stomach that quickly spreads throughout her body upon hearing the suggestive words. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Feel free to leave a comment, I do love to read the feedback!  
> I'll try and get another update out sometime this month before the semester starts up again, so keep a lookout for that!

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! I'm hoping to update about twice a month. I don't plan for it to be super long, but there will probably be around 10 chapters or so.  
> Feel free to leave a comment below! I love to see your responses <3


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